“Almost everything will work again if you unplug it for a few minutes, including you.”  ~ Anne Lamott

Life rolls on, even if you’re not ready, with or without you.  Well, I guess you have to go.

But I have not been rolling gracefully.

So I’m going to try Anne’s remedy and unplug.  The theory already worked this evening with my computer and printer, hopefully it will work on me.

I honestly don’t know what I expected after posting about our 50th wedding anniversary a month ago.  Undoubtedly I had an unrealistic expectation.  I seem to specialize in unrealistic expectations.

Basically, life has been crappy.

Too much, I think, of back to back to back care giving of parents, and not much attention to refueling my own tank.  A long time ago, a son jokingly referred to where we live as the “death house”.  But it is no joke.

So in addition to the weirdness of life lately, Doug and I have been planning a trip.  I know we’re a little crazy, it would be much easier to hop on a plane, but we’re driving to Georgia.  When this posts on Sunday morning, we’ll be on the road.  We have a loose itinerary, a few eatery stops scheduled and a friend or two to see.  We’ll spend time in Georgia with family and welcome a new granddaughter.  Then we’ll take a different route, eating our way back home.

I have never been as disorganized about a vacation as I am with this one.  I hung some clothes in the cab of the truck, stuffed a suit case (way too full) and grabbed a few things to take to our family.  Doug is the one who famously goes on vacation without his underwear, but this time, I fear, it might be me.  And I don’t even care because I need some sleep now.

We have a wonderful friend to stay with my mom, other caregivers to spell our friend, the fridge, freezer and cupboards are full and medications are sorted and labeled.  I don’t need to worry.  I will not worry.  Doug says if I do worry I better be done by Nashville… cause we have big plans for Nashville.

So I have a 50 year old marriage, family and friend connections that matter, a ridiculously long list of goals for a 70 year-old, and one living parent left to honor and care for.

How do you wholeheartedly give yourself to all those things when time is not your friend?  When you’re only one person?  When you’re as close to empty as you’ve ever been?  I cannot seem to make peace with this.

I’ll be pondering that while we’re on the road.  Not worrying.  Pondering.

Unplugging now… just for a bit.