Before Christmas vacation and on the last day of school, the office empties out the lost and found bin. That's how I got this navy blue hoodie and a few other items that have now found new homes by way of Christmas gifts. I will not describe the hoodie, for fear that it's yours and you want it back, but I will tell you that it is very soft, and has the exact right thickness for everything.
It made my last load of laundry, and I packed it into my giant suitcase as an afterthought before I left the house at 8 AM on Saturday. A few stats for Christmas vacation.
Days of vacation = 10
Days spent at my house = 0
Days I wore the sweatshirt for some period of time = 8 (a washing occurred)
Over the last ten days, I have needed much comfort. My thoughts are unsettled by family matters, by imminent changes in housing, by my own fears. I think I'm easily out of sorts. Irregular sleep, different beds, irregular food, tons of cookies, and little exercise contributed to feeling unsettled. This should be a much longer paragraph in which I delineate all that worries me, but alas, I will pay a therapist significant money to be allowed to create that list in a confidential office. At the end of this holiday, I'm asking myself, where do I get comfort?
Nobody was around when I came home tonight, and the first thing I noticed was that recently-wed Bethany had completed her move-out, leaving almost no wall hangings. A few essential items she left, like the shower curtain and the utensil holder. I suppose it would have been rather Grinchy to take those before we had substitutes lined up, and she is certainly not Grinchy. Still, I felt comfortless without the trappings I was familiar with. Before I knew what I was doing, I reached for my suitcase, and put on the sweatshirt over my other layers. I made tea, ate some cookies, and prayed that God would be my comfort. I tried to give myself space to cry for all that is wrong without giving in too completely to melancholy. I have so much to be grateful for, and I am.
I'm cozy in bed now, ready to close my eyes and start over tomorrow, when mercies will be fresh and the sun can decorate the walls.
