REFLECTIONS: Father's Day and Things Left Undone

Today is Father's Day.  It's my first since Dad passed. I haven't coped well. Or perhaps I have without realizing it? Regardless, I'm not going out today. I'm not ready for that.

My readers, if I have any left, will notice that there aren't any blog entries for a long time.

The posts are there, tucked into drafts: Half-finished glimpses into daily life that will likely never see the light of day; Entries concerning Trump insanity, and COVID-19, and Ohio's Stay at Home order; Frustrations over Better Half's health, and my own health, and my mother's; Bits and pieces from my toiling over a new garden by the fence; Thoughts on our dogs; The bathroom overhaul project; Memories and reflections of Dad; My fear of bone cancer and the relief felt once it was confirmed that I dodged that lethal bullet.

I haven't finished a single post. Apathy wants to crash on my mental couch. Sure, a day or two isn't bad. It's when Apathy decides to stay. You have to vacuum around all the empty chips bags and beer cans. Dirty dishes pile up in the kitchen sink. It's horrible.

Like my writing, we have unfinished projects all over this house. The BBQ we purchased is still sitting on a wagon in the yard - upside down and probably filled with rust. The floor tile for the bathroom is still in the foyer. The back porch is still a disorganized mess. I haven't sprayed ant trails yet. Our half-planned vacation to visit Better Half's Mom has grown dusty thanks to my ER visit from last week. But, hey! each project is an improvement for our surrounds.

Yet here I am, pounding out this post instead of tackling those projects. Shame on me.

I suppose this is an accurate snapshot of my mood. It's enhanced by a lack of B12. An emergency room visit is out of the question while Better Half is gripped by his own severe depression; I know they'll keep me for a few days.


Part of me wants to lay down on the living room floor and exhale my last breath. I'd chase Dad into the afterlife. I'd find out if God is real. (If so, I'd likely go to Hell.)

But that's just a nonsense thought. There's too much worth living for! Besides, my dogs would probably eat my corpse. And I can't die unless I finish all those unfinished projects!

And so I sit in front of my monitor on Father's Day. Might as well see what's happening on Twitter.

I thought I'd find a nifty picture to add to this. And then I came across this article regarding Parkinson's and apathy. Now I'm paranoid. HA!