When It’s Time

It has been raining off and on for the last couple of days.

We’ve needed it.

The grass needed it.

The lake needed it.

Everything around here needed it.

But I’ve also been waking up at 4 AM every morning.

For absolutely no reason.

And I definitely do not need that.

I’m still recovering.

Still coughing.

Still dragging a little.

My wife is much better.

David still has a bit of a runny nose.

Everyone else seems to be back to normal.

But I’m tired.

Not just physically.

The weight of the emotions over the weekend took more out of me than I realized.

Old grief.

New grief.

Memorial Day.

Everything mixed together.

I’ll recover.

When I have time to recover.

Movement has started in the house.

Real movement.

Asher’s things coming out.

Repairs happening.

Cleaning.

And now apparently painting has joined the list.

Getting the room ready for Zoey.

Which means schedules.

Tight windows.

A little tension.

A little stress.

And this whole process gets repeated three or four more times over the next few weeks.

All while life keeps moving.

Two more baseball games.

One tonight.

One Monday.

Last swim lesson Saturday.

Asher’s birthday Sunday.

Doctor appointments Monday.

It is going to be a dance.

But at least there is still music.

And in other news...

A very expensive box showed up yesterday.

My new gaming PC.

The shelf is ready.

Area cleaned.

Cables waiting.

Everything prepared.

But between sickness...

School...

Work...

Emotions...

Life...

The box still sits there unopened.

And it is nagging me.

Not because I need it.

Not because I cannot wait.

Just because I know it is there.

Sitting quietly.

Patiently.

Waiting.

School work for the week is done.

Work remains constant, but progress is happening.

Getting the streaming setup ready is moving along.

Everything is inching forward.

And that box?

That box will get opened.

When it is time.

Maybe getting older means realizing not everything has to happen immediately. Some things can wait. Excitement can wait. Rest can wait. Even good things sometimes sit quietly in the corner while life asks something else from you first. The hard part is not knowing something good is waiting. The hard part is having the patience to leave the box closed a little longer.

This is a grounded moment where sometimes even good things can wait.

Much love. Stay safe. Wash your damn hands. I’ll see you Friday.