Inertia

Saturday mornings after my Friday night out are kind of bittersweet.

The transition begins when I arouse myself from the bed. It is my only relaxed sleep all week. I feel so good. It has been 18 hours or so now since I was a caregiver. Well usually not that long really but mostly.

I want to stay here a little longer. But I am awake. I know it is the inertia that is holding me. I have to break free and I do.

It is almost ritual that I practice in leaving. Soon I'm kissing her face and touching her skin and whispering "I love you" and smiling that she seems so peaceful and happy. And my heart wants to crawl back in bed to lie alongside her again.

The grief is momentary and I'm in the car and moving towards dad's home. I notice it is slow at first but my speed gradually increases. Does it mirror my emotion?

I stop for fuel at the same place. For reasons I do not understand I enjoy this brief time to refill my car. I notice the price. I am grateful I drive so few miles every week. Or am I really grateful?

Now I am visiting my brother a few minutes. I walk him out. I don't want him to leave so quickly but I don't know that until I think about it later. But he has things to do and his own family to see.

The porch is open and I enter it and move to my place. And now I am alone again. I know I need to go help dad. I know there will be a mess. I do not know how he will be - happy or angry - know me or not. I sit here a while and read emails and glance at the forums.

Again I know it is the inertia that is holding me. I have to break free and I do.