When I get tired, I am a force to be reckoned with, as I have recently realized.
Unlike most girls who get incredibly emotional during their period, I usually just get emotional at night.
Especially right now.
"Why now?" you may be wondering.
Well, I'm not 100% sure. As I've been thinking about it, I've always been this way. Hence the reason all of my poetry [well, a good portion of it] during high school and 'the early years' was a result of uber-late nights.
However, me being 'emotional' doesn't mean I will cry on you in a second or can't handle the stress I'm under. It just basically means I'm tired ... and I'm thinking about life.
Granny came Saturday night to my house and ate with us. I couldn't bear the idea of being home and not being able to see her, especially when her sister was coming to visit later that night to deliver some much-needed Mary Kay [I'll hook you up]. It bothers me that she says she's doing "okay" or "alright" instead of "fine" or "good" like she always used to say.
It bothers me that she is alone at all.
I often find myself glancing subconsciously across the street to make sure my tree is there. Mom told me not to get my hopes up. Katie would probably get it cut down. I cried for days. She'd never know. When I'm working on school work or any number of things in my room and glance up to see the felt doll softly whispering "Reach for the stars," I am constantly reminded of my dreams as a child and how very much I do not want to forget. The hymn says "precious memories," and I wonder if the author knew the power in those words. When times get rough, I wear my Noah's Ark necklace.
I learned a new crochet pattern last night and fell asleep dreaming, with tears in my eyes, of my great-grandmother. Her strength was unparalleled and her drive and ability to keep pressing on and upward, I have seen in no one else except her husband. He died when I was young and there are few things that I remember about him, but my mother has always told me what a strong Christian he was...a man of his word.
I look at my grandparents...the three I am privileged to have left while so many are lacking all. I see them as slowly declining in health on occasion, but more often I see their persevering spirits. They may not be spring chickens, or even summer chickens, but I know that they are strong. I have learned so much just by looking at my Grandaddy's hands.