T'was Not Meant To Be

If I hadn't already checked, I'd swear it was a full moon this week. Work has been exhausting, seems everyone wants to fall and break themselves right now. When you fall and break yourself, you go to see a bone doctor. I work for a group of bone doctor's and we've been swamped. I believe I am hearing phones ring in my sleep and I'm one match away from starting a bonfire in the chart room.

Things with our daughter are moving along. Unfortunately, they are moving in the wrong direction. Her situation has become more unstable then it was when she moved in. It's frustrating not having any privacy, but it's heartbreaking watching her struggle. I'm doing my best to stay positive and supportive with her. Musicman gets the brunt of my frustrations though. He handles it all quite well, letting me rant and rave until I'm drained. Then I get a hug and a swat and sent on my way.

He's been a bit under the weather, fighting off a bug that's been dragging him down all week.  I've been arguing with a migraine for two days now myself. That coupled with the lack of privacy and my extreme exhaustion has made playtime a thing of memory, for the moment. Hugs, kisses, pinches and swats have become my main diet. Not the meal I'd like, to be sure, but much better then an empty plate.

I had just about convinced myself that all the above, combined with various sundry daily challenges and the memories that came with the thaw, were what was causing me to be agitated these last few days.  It was kinda easy to convince myself of it, because that's what I wanted it to be. Just a minor rough patch that would blow over quickly. Something that could be easily fixed with just a few hours, an empty house and an implement or two.

Oh, but t'was not meant to be, I should never have listened to the messages on my machine. Why did I pick up the phone and return that call? I don't want to hear the things I heard. I want to ignore it and hope it goes away. If only life were like that, but we all know it's not.

I would ask for a favor, from you, my friends, readers and lurkers. If you believe in God, in any form or definition. If you believe in the power of prayer or healing positive energy. Please pray. Not for me, for my baby brother. He's very, very ill. We won't know the whole of it until Monday, but it's very serious, maybe worse. I can't quite wrap my head around it yet.

He's 9 years younger then me, and a fine man. He's spent the last 20 years of his life defending our country, a career military man. He's married to a feisty little lady with an odd mix of Boston/Southern accent. I can barely understand a word she says, and I love her. She's the closest thing to a sister I've ever had. They have 5 sons, all wonderful young men.

This can't be fixed with a few hours and an empty house, so I'll pray. If the opportunity presents itself to play, I will seize the chance and the escape.