Weekend

 We knew our fridge was on the struggle bus and Adam had ordered a new one (to be delivered this week), but on Friday morning, when I pulled out my lunch to take to school, it felt decidedly not cold.  I tested the temperature inside the fridge and it was a balmy 60 degrees!

I went to school knowing that I had a project ahead of me.

In another chapter of I never know what will happen at school, we read a story about Garrett Morgan, who invented gas masks and improved traffic lights.  They wondered, like they always do when we read a biography, if he was still alive.  He was born in 1877, so I had them help me do the math to figure it out.

Since he would be 149, I told them that he wouldn't be alive still.

Hands shot up.  The kids who are studying the Old Testament for Come Follow Me this year had to report that people used to live older.  They rattled off the ages of Adam et al.  

OK, OK, but most people don't live that long....

After school, Mark and I pulled everything out of the fridge.  We put condiments in coolers and threw everything else away.  Two garbage bags full of eggs and cheese and meat and dairy products and good leftovers and gross leftovers that no one was going to eat anyway.

It was sad. And for the 1200th time this week alone, I felt very grateful for Mark.

We went to JCWs for dinner.  He convinced me to go there so I could get a peanut butter milkshake to soothe my sore throat.

I had a sore throat which is kind of what-else-is-new, but also annoying.

It didn't take too much convincing because I know those are Mark's favorite GF burgers and I owed him one (or 1200) and also he wasn't wrong about the peanut butter milkshake thing.

We came home and I was tired so I went to bed early.  My throat kept getting more and more sore.  During the night it turned out to be the worst sore throat of my life.  It was only on one side, but swallowing was excruciating.  I texted Adam and he was still awake.  He called me and I couldn't really talk to him, but he told me to gargle with salt water and take medicine and he made me feel better by being Adam.

I did everything he said and was able to sleep.  

Saturday I woke up with a less sore throat, but with feeling generally sick.  Achy and tired and miserable.  Cue pity party of one because I had saved up a bunch of stuff to do Saturday.  And also on the list was figuring out food for the following week that didn't need a refrigerator.  Mark and I were going to go to Costco and Trader Joe's and figure out a freezer heavy meal plan.

I felt very discouraged.

Mark bucked me up like he does.  He kissed my forehead and said to give him a shopping list and that I should rest.  I said he couldn't go to Costco.  He said, "Then I'll go to Walmart.  I can get what we need."

He is just helpful and solid and loving and I don't know what I'd do without that kid.  

I talked to my mom on Saturday.  She is on hospice and there is nothing easy about her life right now.  Despite that, she usually just wants to know how I am.  I cried and told her all my self-pitying circumstances and she was sympathetic.

I also told her that her example means the world to me.  Every time I talk to her, besides her telling me how good my dad is to her, she tells me that every night she prays for the Savior to be with her.  "And He is."

I don't know why she has to suffer and I don't know why any of us have to suffer, but I know and I have always known that my mom is one of the strongest people I know.  Her life has always been one of service and faithfulness and she is no different now, even though she can't do the things she used to do.

Since both my sons and Adam thought I should (and who am I to disagree with the men in my life?), I went to urgent care Saturday night.  It didn't feel exactly like strep throat, but it felt miserable and if it was something that I could get an antibiotic for and feel better, sign me up.  

I was tested for strep, Covid and influenza and they were all negative.  Sigh.  Not that I wanted any of those, I just wasted a trip when I would rather be tucked under a blanket.

Sunday I stayed home and watched church remotely and had a little less angst about it all.  I know that wishing things were different is never going to help.  I need to find ways to thrive in the hand I've been dealt.  As Marie Louise would say with her British/Australian accent, I need to "get on with it."

Emma came over for dinner and we had frozen pizza which is the best idea I could come up with in our refrigerator-less state.  We played Qwixx and talked and I always enjoy my time with Emma and Mark.  

Adam went to church in Birmingham, Alabama and I think he enjoyed it.  I enjoy living vicariously through him.  He narrated the countryside he was seeing while he drove.  He talked about someday going on a road trip like that with me.

Some day.