Late yesterday evening, my frailness came back. It was like an unseen wind that suddenly appeared. I know it is time to rest.
At first, I felt like I was trying to get ready for a long journey. I made preparations with the children, and warned my husband. "Don't be alarmed," I told them. "But my weariness has come back." There is a weakness in my legs that requires me to use my crutches.
I needed the family to take over much of my homemaking. I gave instructions and requests, while glancing around the rooms yearning for a body that worked. It felt like I was walking away from a dearly loved project. I did not want to be bedridden without my dishes to wash, or my floors to sweep. But I will yield to the forced rest.
I have this pretty tray, and will have one of the children polish it up. They can use this to bring me snacks and refreshments during my confinement. I have old movies to pick out, while I am in the quiet chambers. The family will go on, in the other rooms of this large old Estate, without me. They will check on me, and visit me throughout the day, but they will be doing all the work.
Perhaps one will take a break and watch a movie with me? Perhaps someone will bake brownies as a special treat? And maybe someone will remember to do the laundry, and hang the clothes on the line, while I am recovering from something I cannot see?
Please do not worry about me, dear friends. I have been used to this for decades. I will be okay again. These sweet rests are very precious. They are a blessing, and a gift in disguise.
Blessings
Mrs. White
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