I haven’t written any non-bookish posts here for a while. All is okay but I’ve been struggling a little in my usual #firstworldproblems way. Stressing more than I should about work; worrying about things I think I SHOULD be doing (writing, blogging, reading), but not. The usual. And then there are the mid-life hormones running rampant through my now 50yr old body. In fact, I decided I was dying the other night cos according to my Fitbit I actually spent a few hours with my heartrate in the ‘fat-burning’ zone while lying in bed, even reaching the ‘cardio’ zone a few times. Bloody palpitations.
Anyway, although I was excited heading into this commitment-free weekend (and a long one for me as I have Monday off) Friday ended weirdly when I had a teensy (and not overly obvious) meltdown in Woolworths while doing my grocery shopping for the weekend. (ie. Buying corn chips and chocolate!)
I thought I saw my dad you see. I was entering the store in my usual distracted and rushed manner and there he was. And I was relieved. Happy to see him.
Of course it wasn’t him; just someone who looked like him at first glance. But for a moment I thought he was there. That he was back.
The sense of relief was (again, of course) fleeting because I know he’s been dead for over 6 years. But it’s amazing how one’s heart can break all over again. In a matter of seconds.