Member-only story
View from the Floor…
I sit on the den floor staring at the areas under my husband’s recliner and the loveseat, thinking that I should be doing something about the dust and the cat hair and knowing that I couldn’t.
You see I was on the floor because I’d fallen — lost my balance and keeled right over, banging my bad shoulder into a wall. I’d been to PT earlier but that was for my right shoulder — the one that had just hit the wall.
I thought about all the things I SHOULD be doing — like rearranging the bedroom, hanging up some clothes, even getting clothes out of the dryer, pulling up the weeds growing through th deck boards. All the things I can no longer do — except for the clothes in the dryer.
And I thought about all the things I WANTED to do — like going back to England, going into NYC especially on December 8, going to Gettysburg for the reenactment, going to writers’ conference — heck, just going to one meeting. And rescuing another dog.
I tried to get myself up but didn’t have the strength in my arms like I once did. My husband tried to get me up but I refused his help-not wanting two old people on the floor. So I called 911 and waited…and fumed…mad at the universe when I was really mad at myself for getting old.
Unfortunately I took it out on my husband, blaming my decline on our marriage — because I could no longer do…
