I’ve been thinking about getting back to writing recently, and I’ve had time to do so, but I just haven’t known where to start. I feel numb to the world I’m living in. I know this: If, last March, you had showed me a picture of my life today, I would have been pleased and relieved. Our family has not only made it through the pandemic, but we have also grown and flourished. I won’t bore you with the manners in which we did that, but we did.
That flourishing has required constant vigilance on my part. That vigilance has paid off, and we are better off in every manner than we were before last March. Now, finding myself on the good side of the pandemic, my to-do list is dwindling. We have moved and seen to the details required of new homeowners. We have gotten through a trying school year–Finn was virtual throughout, while Becky and Simon had to deal with going to school in the COVID era. The restaurant is largely back to normal–we just need to staff up to get fully back to where we were.
All of those plateaus reached, I should be relaxing, yet I’m not. I am relaxing some, yet I’m not as relaxed while doing it as I was prior to the pandemic.
After I quit drinking, I had to learn how to relax, and this feels something like that. It’s like I had an enemy, and that enemy has died. I am geared to fighting, but there is no foe.
So, now I feel as if I have to learn to live normal again. Is anyone else feeling like that? I’m guessing this isn’t an uncommon reaction, after what we’ve all been through, and I’m just anxious to get feeling normal again.
Sorry this isn’t much of a post, but I just wanted to get something on the page to break the ice.
I’m going to try to focused on being blessed that my family has gotten through this trying time healthy and well, and I’m going to pray for the lull to break. Please keep us in your prayers, and you will remain in ours.