26 January, 2022

The Lost Week

If you know me, you know that I'm a planner. I write down everything:  "to do" lists, daily and weekly goals, I even commit our meals and menus to paper. I go so far as to mark up my planner with different color inks to signify levels of priority and importance. These pages, ordinarily, appear as a veritable text rainbow, filled to overflowing with scribbled tasks and notes.
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Here's my planner page from last week. Nothing. Zip. These stark pages will bear witness to what's now known (to me) as the lost week. So, what did I do all week? Where was I? I was right here, on the sofa by the fireplace under a quilt with a book! Doesn't that sound cozy? It really wasn't, the stomach bug plagued me for five solid days. So, that's really not all that blog-worthy, really; but what I'm struggling with this week is the fact that it's impossible to make up for lost time. Intellectually, I know that, of course; it's the emotional realization of this fact that cuts deep. My "to do" lists have migrated over to this week, Mr. G reminds me that it's okay to let it go.
 
He's right. I'm reminded of this long-ago poem that I cross stitched and hung in our infant son's nursery. Priorities are dictated by the situation at hand. I suppose that I can/should scrawl RECOVERING across those blank pages, that would satisfy my need for a written record of productivity. I wonder what color ink that would require? I could assign a sickly green, I suppose. 🤢 All kidding aside, I have trouble being side-lined, it's not in my nature. But, what would I say to my own family and friends who needed to give themselves time to heal? I'd strongly encourage that, I'd reassure them that a recovery period was necessary for a full recovery. Why, then, am I so hard on myself, why do I have trouble self-granting that very same grace? I don't know, but I am trying. I'm grateful today for restored health, believe me; I have a whole new respect for how quickly that can turn around! 
I'm healthy again, Mr. G. and I both are,
blessings abound,
life marches on...
and it is Good!

6 comments:

cityquilter grace said...

i remember that poem from when my DD was a baby...so true, i miss rocking my baby...glad all is well at the goodneedle home...lost sleep can never be made up but lost weeks can...one thing i have realized in retirement...most anything can wait until tomorrow or the day after...glad your priorities put your health first!

Quiltdivajulie said...

Pretty sure most of us in our generation had that little poem in some form or another in or near our little ones' nurseries. Yes, you absolutely should mark up those pages with STOMACH BUG and FORCED TO REST in as many color inks as you have on hand. Over and over - FILL those pages while you continue to recover and GENTLY re-enter the world of productivity (but not too fast).

Unknown said...

Oh dear. I had it for 1 day over the weekend and wanted to die. Five days...you will have this. Be glad it's not chronic and carry on. But gently, for a while.

Ramona said...

I'm glad you are on the road to recovery. Being unable to "do" is so difficult for some of us. Give your body and spirit the time they need to heal and enjoy your books.

Janet O. said...

Glad you are feeling better. I think sometimes our bodies make us stop and rest because we won't do so unless forced. And I get what you mean about reassuring others that they need time to get back on their feet, but not allowing ourselves the same grace. Aren't we interesting creatures? ;)

Tanya said...

When I get waylaid by even a small cold I find myself down in the dumps just because I feel so useless, such a burden on anyone else and unreasonably fearful that I'll never be back to snuff again. It is so easy for the physical to influence the mental.