Dark and cold

The sky was jet black this morning as I hobbled out to get the newspaper at 5:15. Shawn's flight to Virginia was at 6:40 a.m., so we planned to leave for the airport at 5:30. As I walked toward the newspaper on the lawn, the full moon in the dark sky created some special effects; there were two shadows of me moving across the lawn behind me, which made me jump in fear.

It was so cold and dark that I began to feel depressed. Liberto's car was covered with ice, which is a rare occurrence around here. Since I was planning to use his car, I turned on the engine to let it defrost while I drank my coffee and Shawn gathered his things. When we were ready to depart, the ice was still thick across the windshield. We don't even own an ice scraper, so I ran back in the house for a spatula, and proceeded to scrape away at the layer of ice. It was so hard that I couldn't remove it. Shawn began to scrape, and only made a small hole. Since time was running out, I decided we'd take my car instead, which was warm inside the garage. I dropped Shawn at the airport and returned. It was still very dark and still very cold when I returned to the house. I began to get the blues. I hate dark, cold mornings, and tomorrow, I'll have to start getting up in the cold dark to return to work. As I puttered around, debating whether to begin unearthing syllabi and lesson plans, I began to think about Pete and became very depressed. The darkness never helps. I can see why people in the North get S.A.D. Shawn texted me about an hour later that a lady who appreciates U.S. soldiers had just bought him a soda...when he's in uniform, people are extremely kind and will walk up and say "God bless you for your service."

At nine, I turned on Meet the Press, which I love, and tried to doze as I listened to the discussion about terrorism and our war on terror now probably expanding into Yemen.

I just plain felt out of it, no energy, no sense of purpose. I'm not used to the early alarm yet, and the house felt so chilly. I feel a sense of loss on many fronts. I'd been enjoying the holiday break so very much and now feel sad that it's ending. I fear having to return to, possibly, another Class from Hell at the school. I still feel the loss of Pete, and keep having flashbacks of his smell, his soft forehead where I kissed him goodnight each night, his heavy breathing during his last days. I also miss Liberto, and I know he misses me...he's called twice a day from Caracas. I also miss Derek and Shawn because I don't know when I'll see them again.

I'd also like to develop a new sense of purpose, but I haven't figured out yet what it is. I only think I know what it is NOT (i.e., high school teaching). I've always liked writing, but at the moment, I just don't feel passionate enough about anything to write a book. And I know from experience that in order to complete such a Herculean task, a writer has to be so excited about the topic that she just can't stop herself. Oh well, as they say, when the student is ready, the teacher appears. Maybe my inspiration for a new purpose in life (in addition to being a wife, mother, and friend) will appear suddenly when I least expect it!