Still tired - LOVE LUCY By Lucy Gomez

Tag : fancy socks

Maybe I’m still tired. Well, come to think of it, I wasreally too tired two weeks back, I stretched my limits too much,pushed myself too hard, so hard that I actually came down with theflu. I came down with really bad cold first, a treacherous sorethroat next, and my limbs hurt with every little movement. Ihaven’t had the flu in so long I almost forgot just howdreadful and utterly horrible it could get.
As a matter of course, I stayed home for three days straight,living in thick pajamas and socks from morning till night. I hadnot slept that much in so long, and guiltlessly at that — 10to 12 hours of shuteye, three days straight, with little siestas inbetween to boot; until then I had relegated sleep to the far-gonepast, belonging to a time when I was not yet a wife, a mother,living in Manila. What bliss… I would actually wake up withcheeks so pink and no eye bags at all.
It was nice to feel so rested, and yes, so pampered. Myseven-year-old daughter would bundle me up in her pink and yellowprincess blankets, my husband would make me chicken soup fromscratch. They would kiss me goodbye and hello, as they left and came backfrom their daily grind, Juliana to and from school, Richard to andfrom work and his baseball games. He would make Melba toast for me,and fresh fruit and vegetable juices. And chicken sandwiches: hemade me a batch of very good chicken spread. On day three I feltmuch better and because I could not get ice cream off my mind weasked the driver to get some halo-halo from Razon’s. Ifinished every single bit in my big plastic cup.
It’s been a week but I still feel tired. And a bit lost. Whatis happening? I find myself worrying about little things again,getting frustrated that, with so much to do, there justaren’t enough hours in one day. My closet is in disarray(although that is the least of my worries), I have photo frameswaiting to be hung on the now-bare dining room wall (we took downthe painting that was there and transferred it), the upholstery ofour sofa set is falling apart at the seams. I look at the gardenand there are bald spots where the big dogs have peed. We had fourlovebirds, in two cages, but a pair escaped. Sigh… Thehelpers and the gardener see them sometimes, just hopping from onebamboo tree to the next, but they do not seem to want to go back totheir cage. I wouldn’t, either, if I were them.
Juliana brings out her scrap-booking materials and I worry that shejust has too much. I compare it to when I was her age, doing thevery same thing, and there were no shortcuts. I had to carefullyscour old magazines, eventually training my eye to know a treasurewhen I saw one, clipping images that would make interestingbackgrounds, cutting out quotes and fancy letters that I would thencarefully glue alongside photos and movie tickets, handwrittenletters, little pieces of life’s memories. Now, everything isinstant. Images and designs on paper that will make nice backgrounds comein kits and sheets; there is an abundance of fancy stickers andbuttons and ribbons. Nothing wrong with that, they are quiteinexpensive, but I worry about how she will appreciate things. Doesit come too easy for her now? She has pencils and erasers andcoloring sets but she has boxes of them, a few bought, a lot given.I remember when I was a little girl myself and my sister and Ishared a big set of Pentel pens, a nice big box of colored pencils.And that was it. We did not have too much but we took very goodcare of those two that we had: not one pen was lost. It lasted usthrough elementary school, the whole of high school and college.When I went to Ormoc last year for a visit I saw the pens andbrought them back to Manila for Juliana, together with my collection of stickers. Some of them still had dates at the back — “January1986,” “June 1984” — my penmanship wasstill fat and round then. Our pencil sharpeners are still alive tothis day, our transparent rulers from elementary with apersonalized Robee sticker in a rainbow design (remember them?) hadour home address in Bonifacio Street and our three-digit phone number.
Mommy always had dresses made for us but we did not have so manypairs of shoes. We had a couple of rubber shoes, dress shoes inblack and another in white, school shoes, slip-ons. Just what weneeded. Nothing in excess. Even if we knew Daddy and Mommy couldafford it they never made us get used to having too much. I look atJuliana’s shoe cabinet and she has a lot for someone so tiny. Again, nothing wrong with that, but I worry that she might thinkit is normal to have that much. She has too many bags, also —way too many. We don’t indulge her every whim but she gets alot of them as gifts. I am happy, though, that she knows how totake care of her things, and she also shares a lot. Butstill…
Why do I worry so much now? I do not know. Maybe I am still tiredand I feel disoriented — perhaps “frustrated” isa better word, because there is a gap between what I want to do andwhat I can realistically do. I want to put the house in order (isthat not the story of my life?), I want to prune the magazinespiling up, I have to put into boxes the stuff that I promised topass on to an aunt of mine who moved houses very recently. I haveover 400 e-mail messages I have yet to read, I have books on mybedside table I want to enjoy but can’t because I justdon’t have the time. Maybe my worrying is a misplaced form ofescape.
To add to all that, I have butterflies in my stomach when I thinkof a dance I have to perform live in the next few weeks, plus anevent I have to attend that requires me to speak in front of acrowd. I am frightened of performing, I am frightened of crowds,put both together and I get so nervous I just want to sleep for 12hours straight again. Why do I do this to myself? Why do I alwayssay yes even when it scares me out of my wits? I do not know. I amcrazy. But maybe when I wake up I will have a change of heart and notfeel as frightened. A good night’s sleep has that kind ofmagic. Besides, when will I do all that? When I am old? When myknees are so wrinkled I cannot wear a dress that will flutter andspin around me as I move?
I pray and it soothes me. Thank God for prayer. How will I managemy fretting and my worrying if I do not have a prayer time that Ican retreat to for refreshment? I read an article on the“Centering Prayer” recently that started with the words“Be careful what you pray for…” The closer youget to God, the deeper your relationship with Him, the more youdiscover things about yourself that are not always pleasantlysurprising. For instance, all my life I thought I was the mostpatient person I knew. It took a whole lot to upset me, foranything to get to me. I was patience personified. Or so I thought. Maybe the reason I was so patient was because I was sowell-rested, sleeping was leisurely and long, I had the energy tobe patient! Shame on me if, given all that, I would still find it in me to beimpatient. But now that I work on TV and am gone for long hours,with very little sleep as the norm, I find that I am not sopatient. And that it is far from fun when you get hungry but can’teat. By the time you do get to eat you are just plain tiredyou’d really just much rather sleep. I used to get guiltyfeeling the way I felt, knowing especially that everybody else inthe workplace is just as tired as me, but I have learned not toquestion feelings. I just accept it and deal with it, as it comes.I am human. I get tired. Nothing wrong with that. I should respectmyself enough to stop when it gets too much, to sneak in bites of agranola bar when I’m hungry but can’t eat just yet, totake catnaps every chance I get. I have learned to cope by findinginventive ways to quickly recharge. And then I can give somethingof myself again. When I pray for a good day and start out allpositive and upbeat, I have to be prepared for the possibility thatlife can and will sometimes taunt and try you when you least wantor expect it to. As Joel Osteen says, fulfillment comes in notallowing anything or anyone to steal your joy. I have learned tolet go, to not take things personally all the time, and it has beenliberating.
Today Richard, Juliana and I rode our bikes around the village. Itwas late in the afternoon and the sun was bright but no longerbiting and hot. We did a total of 5.3 kilometers, non-stop, withjust a quick water break once in between. Somehow, the activitycleared my mind. I just have to take on my worries and fears, nomatter how unfounded, one at a time. Sometimes you believe that ifyou do not acknowledge something out loud it does not exist. Thereare many things I want to keep beneath the surface, fears andworries that clutter the mind and disturb the peace. I confront itand it can get annoying but eventually the dust has to/will settle.It will pass. Besides, as the title of a book I read a long time ago goes, YouCannot Afford the Luxury of a Negative Thought. So true. It just is not worth it.
Over worry and fear, I guess it’s okay to feel tired. Atleast I can just sleep that off.
I remember once I was trying to explain to Juliana about how Godsees everything. How he watches over us all when we sleep.“You mean He doesn’t sleep, Mom?” Not a wink, Ihad said. “Does God have eyebags?” she asked. Maybe,baby. Maybe He does.
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There will be a Centering Prayer Introductory Retreat on July 18 to20 at St. Joseph Marello Retreat House, Tagaytay City . For more info, please contact Anna Marie Llanos. Call 842-4030 or842-0201.