Wednesday, April 7, 2010

A moment

I had a bad day on Sunday.  I have them occasionally, I call them my Black Cloud Days.  Something comes over me and BANG, there it is.  I feel myself physically curling into myself, I'm sullen and quiet.  It's obvious to all.  I try and see the light, and I know it's there, but often I choose to wallow in my own despair.  A while ago my doctor described it as pre-menopausal (shudder)  and suggested natural remedies (none worked) and exercise (bingo!).  My own theory was I needed a) some friends (we'd just shifted from NZ and I was blimmin lonely) and b) purpose.  But the exercise seemed to work a trick and still does.  The Husband is excellent at nagging me to go for a run when I'm in this mood.  I begrudging take his advice and I always feel better.  And I now have gorgeous friends and a growing sense of purpose.
So Sunday was tough, I couldn't shake it, it was causing a problem between The Husband and I, his parents are staying with us, and my black cloud and our marital strife because of it, were obvious to all.  So we take the scooters and ourselves off to Balmoral Beach where the In-Laws park themselves on a spot near the beach.  The Husband and I take turns at sitting with them (and therefore avoiding each other and our growing conflict).  While on my shift, I notice an old man sitting in a chair nearby.  He was very old and frail looking with a white beard, but he had a warm jacket, a new folding chair and a pair of trainers with velcro fasteners.  And he was sitting in the shade watching the activities around the beach.  While listening to the In-Laws I started to watch him.  I wanted to talk to him,  I wanted him to know he wasn't alone down on the beach, and that he had me as a friend for a moment or two.  He was giving me perspective.  For no particular reason.  It wasn't like I had an ephinany that my life was fabulous and I had so much to be happy for etc, because I really do know that.  What he did was trigger something in my heart that filled me with love and warmth and banished those black clouds to the back of my subconscious for a bit.  I know, sappy.  I'm hearing you.  But it's truly what I felt.
As we started to wander away, he started to stand but collapsed back down into his chair that was leaning ominously, I rushed over before he completely over balanced and asked if he'd like help and offered him my arm.  He took it and leaned on me as he got unsteadily up.  Behind him a woman about my age with her two sons was hurrying towards him calling out "Dad?, Are you ok", as we passed she said "thank you" to me and smiled, then carried on to help him get his things together.
And that's when my tears behind my sunglasses started. 
There was something about that moment that was just a little bit magical.


  1. ooooh that is lovely!! I do know those sort of moments and they are very special when they happen. Those small moments, people / things that randomly catch our attention. They are what add to the wonder of life and give us perspective right when we need it. BTW thanks for comment on my latest post - I hear you black clouds, and I'm going to hit the pavement tomorrow and get some endorphins myself x

  2. Beautifully written. I very often sit and watch people and imagine what their lives are like, and very often I gain a new perspective on mine... tx to Sharni for sharing you blog...

  3. Aw Lisa. What a sad day but what a beautiful way to come out from under the cloud. xxx

  4. Uh Oh Black moods,unexplained grumpiness, cranky at husband ... reminds me of someone we both know well, sister.
    Luckily you have the ability to make something positive from the negative, unlike the other person ( & that's why you should still be kicking after 55yrs old with your liver intact )
    PS It's a given that you may need a bit of self medication to deal with the in laws ... !

  5. Gorgeous post! Those moments are what it's all about. Hope you're feeling better.