Neither Here Nor There

 Feelings come and feelings go. Red as hellfire, white at snow. Black as mourning, blue as rain. Orange, sweet like marmalade. Feelings come and feelings go. But love is not a feeling, so Love is built with brick and stone. Like poured concrete, love feels like home.

no sound no light they hurt my head I hurt I ache I take my meds no laughs  no romance  in this bed I moan I groan my husband said and yet  it's all inside my head

It's grief, they say, this anxious ache, You miss the things you used to take For granted. Kids at school, recess at play. You in the office, day after day. Barbecues, weddings, party tents. The world when it used to make sense. The new world has too many rules. Stay at home; don't go to school. Social distance, mask your face; Pray for mercy and a little grace. Miss the hugs, the getting and giving. Keep your old among the living.

I have always been "crafty", as my college roommate would put it.  I started with latch hook rugs and tin punch pieces with my mother.  She is my inspiration for my crafting.  My mom never looks at a craft and says "I could never do that".  If she wants to make something, she does.  She may make a lot of mistakes along the way and have to start over a few times, but my mom makes what she wants to make.  I try to channel that spirit.  For instance, when my husband and I bought our house I decided that I would sew curtains even though I had barely used a sewing machine before.  I make rectangular, super simple curtains for the dining room and then decided that roman shades would look best in the living room.  I purchased a pattern for roman shades and many yards of fabric and just did it.  My mom was really impressed. Here's a selection of my projects:

  I have a benign brain tumor which is called an acoustic neuroma, or vestibular schwannoma if you want to be fancy. It's a rare tumor.   One person in 100,000 will be diagnosed with an acoustic neuroma in any given year.   Picture the biggest college football stadium in the US.   See all those people?   Just will be the unlucky one diagnosed with an acoustic neuroma. It was 2010 when I was diagnosed and I was thirty-three years old.  I had been so sick - incredibly fatigued, lightheaded with painful headaches and pressure in my head - that I was happy to have found a reason for my suffering.  The only problem is that while we found something that definitely needed treatment, the tumor was not making me sick.  Then neurosurgeons told me that my symptoms were not caused by the acoustic neuroma.  They said the only symptoms usually caused by an acoustic neuroma are loss of hearing and dizziness.  Wanting to believe that we had discovered what was wrong with me I told myself that

Five foot three, I stand my ground. I don't scream; don't make a sound. It pushes me; it pulls me down. Were it water I'd surely drown. It shadows me with constant threat of deeds of undone, of goals unmet. It meets me at first morning light Despite the rest of yesternight. Some days it tries to make me think I will not drown, I will not sink. I make some plans and say a prayer It crushes me; it does not care. What could be so bad you ask? What holds me down, takes me to task? What fights me, has me under siege? You know its name, it's called fatigue.