My Savior

Sometimes I don’t feel very well acquainted with myself. I feel somewhat like a lost soul. I’m not sure whether it has anything to do with depression or if it is born from dreams I've had during the night. Maybe it is the quiet life I lead due to poor health and late middle age.

None the less, this disparaging sensation saddens me and makes me want to just get into bed and search my mind for what my life was before now. Very little stops me from doing this. It is almost like an addiction to crawl under the covers when I feel lost. The question I ask myself is “Who am I and where am I going?” The answers are few and far between and my responses are hazy. Although the act of doing this crawling in to bed thing is essential to my well being, it helps little. There is, however, a solution to this giant and uncomfortable feeling. It is a visit from my brother, Richard.

Guy, my husband, says he loves to hear me laugh when Richard is here. I think those chuckles are me finding myself again! I begin to remember where I came from and who I have become. Just being in the same room with Richard can ease my empty ache. It’s not that we talk about the past so much as we talk about things that matter. He keeps my mind busy and I hang onto his every comical word. He has a brilliant sense of humor enjoyed by all who meet him. I lighten up when I am with him. He’s like a gigantic shot of fast acting antidepressant. Richard makes me feel needed and important. He shares his new utube finds, tells me his latest jokes and he recites his most recent antics. He hugs me and he holds me.

Richard is coming today and his timing is excellent. My hollow heart needs his companionship. I know I still have a lot to offer. I just need Richard here to remind me.

Thanks so much for coming, Richard. Thank you for being my savior.