Snail? Slug – Photo: L. Weikel

Confession

“Confession is good for the soul,” they say. I don’t know if that’s true, but I do know I’m not big on blowing smoke up people’s behinds, especially when it comes to my own actions. So I’m determined to make sure the record, such as it is, is right.

I wrote yesterday about fulfilling the task before me, which at least in that instance was about cleaning out and getting rid of filing cabinets’ worth of piles, records, and paperwork.

I mentioned that it was hard work. And I admitted that a lot of time had gone by since I last attempted to clear this stuff out. But this time – this time – I was ready to tackle it.

Well, I bailed. I know I need to do it, and I really thought for sure I was going to accomplish my mission today, but I didn’t.

I was lulled into a delicious sense of gratitude for the day when I sat outside just after noon and felt the warmth of the sun on my face. My bones were initially still chilled from the rawness of the past two days until I went outside to fill the birdfeeders and took a peek at the blue sky trying to return to prominence.

Not Up For It

As much as I was psyched to accomplish my goal yesterday I was not-so-psyched to do it today. I took one look at the files pertaining to an accident Karl had that by all rights probably should’ve killed him in 2008 (but only broke a couple of bones) and I felt my resolve stall. I particularly bristled at the memory of the disgusting doctor at a local rehabilitation hospital who prescribed Oxycontin to him over my objections. I literally had to get in her face to get her to back down on the seemingly cavalier – if not deliberate – over-medication of my son.

But I digress. Or maybe I don’t.

Do I just destroy these records? Why would I want to keep them? What purpose would that serve? Who would ever be interested in them and why?

My eyes moved half an inch to rest upon the information documenting his acceptance to New York University and all of the drama associated with that. (Literally – as he ended up auditioning and being accepted into the Tisch School of the Arts as a Drama major.) Such seemingly pivotal choices and decisions, all documented in black and white. So much excitement. So much promise.

Snail’s Pace

Nope.

I didn’t have it in me today. While I’m sure no one will care about any of these things in the future, I didn’t have it in me to send them through the shredder today.

Maybe tomorrow.

I know it’s stuff I don’t need to hang on to. I know I need to walk my talk and let go of the past.

But today my resolve to move forward slowed to the pace of the snail (or was it a slug?) I encountered as I took a walk later in the day.

(T-179)