Ill winds

March is always a tough month for me. There is so much wind, and I hate the wind. It makes me restless and dissatisfied, unable to feel at peace.

The last couple of weeks have been especially difficult, for several reasons. First of all, I really needed some time off, to do something for me. School has been terribly busy—some classes are going well and others have me wondering about the choices I’ve made. My job has become an endless source of frustration for me, and to top it all off, even though I’m a college student on “spring break,” my request for time off so I could go and see my parents was rejected. That was especially bothering me, because I was feeling an urgency about going; I really needed to go. Thank God for a great assistant manager, who had mercy on me and rearranged my schedule so I could have the time off that I needed.

On top of all this, my favorite uncle (on my dad’s side) hasn’t been well for the last several months, and has taken a turn for the worse in the last few days. There is nothing the doctors or nurses can do for him now, so it’s just a matter of waiting. I’m glad he’s at home and with his family, but he hasn’t been able to swallow, so he hasn’t eaten in more than a week. The thought of him lying there starving until his organs fail is unsettling, to say the least.

The other thing that I find disquieting is the fact that he is only 2 years older than my own dad. It really brings home the point that I may not have as much time left with my parents as I would like to believe.

I always thought that by the time I lost my parents, I would be an adult—married, with a career and family; kids grown and gone, and maybe even grandkids of my own. I thought I’d be able to take care of myself. Instead, here I am—single (not even a possible relationship in sight), attending college and working part-time at a low-paying job that I hate, and with only my son (who still lives with me) as “my” family. I’m still worrying about homework and grades, depending on my parents at the time in my life when I had hoped to be both free to and able to help them if they needed me.

I’ll be turning 50 on my birthday, and I don’t feel as if I’ve accomplished very much in all those years.

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