I had made plans for the day. Several plans. Some rather ambitious ones I guess. I had even shared my plans with Beloved. And then this strange thing called reality clicked. You see the night before, the night I had made all the plans I was foolish in believing that I’d actually be able to do even half of what I added to the list.
The morning light highlighted my malar/butterfly rash just perfectly. Not that I noticed it as much as Beloved. He was kind enough to not say anything and only slightly raise his eyebrows for a moment. He knew, experience after all is an excellent teacher, that soon enough I’d know what he already knew. My list would have to wait.
Stiff fingers, intense pain and feeling as though I had expended enough energy to climb Mount Everest when in fact I had just sat up. A smile, faint and reassuring was on Beloved’s face, trying to hide the concern that was all to easy to read in his eyes. The smile was also because he knew that I’d struggle to try to pretend before giving in.
Sinking back into the pillows, I told Beloved I would just rest a bit longer and then I’d start on my list. The rest ended up lasting a bit longer than anticipated. When I managed to struggle to my feet and limp out beyond the bedroom I was taken by surprise. You see Beloved was doing the chores from my list.
He wouldn’t complete them all. He had his own ideas and plans for the day after all. But he managed to get rid of the big ones I’d wanted finished. And I spent my day resting and napping because that’s all I could manage to do.