or so it would seem. I have been thinking about this over the past day and, oddly, Jo Cannon said something similar in another place this morning.
Wednesday was not a good day to begin with. I was too shaken by the news about my friend Z to think clearly. I had a rather nasty piece of mail - well, very nasty. I was an emotional mess and trying not to show it because I didn't want to upset the Senior Cat. He's the most wonderful father but he worries. He worries far too much.
I love him to bits but I wish he wouldn't worry so much.
And then someone turned up to give me some wool for the old lady with Parkinson's disease. The old lady thinks she can manage another lot of her really square squares that are so much nicer to sew into blankets. She is thinking of other people. The person who brought them realised something was wrong and gave me a hug - which reduced me to tears.
I managed to get myself under control before the Senior Cat came home from a medical appointment. Middle Cat had taken him. She was thinking about someone else. I managed to tell them what had happened to Z without howling - but it was a close thing. A neighbour called in to check on the Senior Cat - and hugged me.
Middle Cat brought me a little bunch of flowers. They are lovely. The Senior Cat and I have them on the kitchen table.
I was expecting a friend to call in for her "proper cup of tea". She teaches knitting on Wednesdays and the place only has "urn tea". She was late and I wondered if she had decided not to come but she arrived full of apologies and questions about the Senior Cat. And not that much later my friend R turned up. I wasn't expecting her at all. I knew she was busy. I had actually pedalled down and left things on her doorstep (and not rung the bell) because I knew she was busy. But she knew I was upset about something else because she has been helping with that. She made time to come. It wasn't for long but she made the time.
And all that should have made me feel better. Somehow it did and it didn't. Yesterday the person who had turned up with the wool left me an e-mail. She needed some information. She apologised for bothering me. Someone else sent me a stiff e-mail telling me to stop being so self-centred about the other issue which was bothering me because I should be helping instead.
I thought about this. There I was wallowing in misery and people still wanted to know things from me. I could still do something to help. I sent an e-mail to Ms Wool and said I'd get to it. She doesn't live far away so, after lunch - with the Senior Cat on his bed for another catnap, I pedalled down to see her. We sorted out what could be done. I can do something for her.
Then I came back and sent a short e-mail to my friend R telling her I would do whatever she and the group in question wanted me to do.
It wasn't until I had done both those things that I started to feel "right" again.
People can be tremendously kind and sympathetic and supportive but sometimes you just have to start doing the right thing for things to feel right again - and that means doing things for other people, not yourself.