I like to arrange furniture. Actually, I like to arrange, re-arrange, and flat out design rooms for functionality, efficiency, comfort, and visual delight. Thankfully I am married to a design junkie as well. He not only enables my inclinations, but he is a full packaged resource when it comes to any and all of my fancies–whether it be the design or the build. Sometimes we work together to formulate a new quadrant creation, and sometimes we work as fast as thieves to get our vision to the end product before the other spouse can override the desired change. All in all, we have loads of fun in either situation. And we both enjoy keeping a non-cluttered environment where we can rest from the excitement of the world outside, and welcome friends and family to the Bent life as we live it.
Note: For some reason I am really struggling to write this post in English. My thoughts are being driven by my Spanish speaking mind and translating to the Germanic language is a challenge. …just something for you, the reader, to keep in mind as you meander through this literary presentation.
In fact, right now I sit in my living room mentally wanting to give into the call of slumber which comes as result of the sun beaming through the window, warming the sofa making the ideal location for an afternoon nap.
However, the longing of the mind to rest is being thwarted by the accelerative properties of the caffeine present within the large cup-o-joe I just ingested a few moments ago. I am also unsure of what the next hour will bring for my weary mind and body, thus the trepidation of the forthcoming is keeping me from the prone position for now. What might the next hour bring? you ask…
Well, it could mean another trek to the hospital with my son, Cole. My poor son has suffered so much in these past 3 years, and yet he continues this route with a frequency too consistent too feel as if he has ever caught a real break. And with him we ride, alongside his struggles, his sufferings, and his visits to the ER. And as much as he wishes for himself that his cycle of pain, diagnostics, and medicinal ‘Russian Roulette’ would stop, he remains quite sensitive to the infliction his course imposes upon his family. This is not a course for the faint of heart! And though I personally feel we are in a Purgatory-like state, he feels as if this IS Hell. I say, not quite Hell just yet because we are inching ever closer to a proper course of treatment for a decent quality of life. I say, let us not give up our chores of dusting the furniture and vacuuming the rugs just yet. This temporary place of torture, I believe is drawing close to its end; But we have been keeping house in this locale for so long now, I can understand why Cole is convinced it is Hell.
Now I must go and evaluate the condition of my son, who is in his room doing his best to distract his mind from the heaviness upon his body. But before I take my leave from my free therapy of the day, I will properly give thanks to the Roman Catholic religion for providing me with the analogous place of the interim. Without it, I just might forget where I am and get lost in the idea that we are here, in this moment, forever.