Me time

Ahh! It's almost 11 p.m. and I am enjoying a rare few minutes all to myself. Ed and my mother are chatting in the living room. My brother is in bed. The TV is off. And I have the bedroom all to myself. All alone in the evening -- what a treasure!

This summer I found that my best shot at solitude was early in the morning. I began getting up much earlier than I needed to just so I could sit quietly and think, ponder, plan. Okay, and obsess, worry and brood sometimes, depending on what was going on in my life at the time. But mostly I made healthy use of the time, reading my scriptures, praying, perhaps writing in my journal. Occasionally I was able to retire to my room early in the evening so I could listen to music and work on a sewing project. But now that my husband is here, I rarely have a room all to myself.

It's true that I came to Arkansas so that I could be available to my family. I am so happy I was here this summer to watch Caroline while Nikki and Nick both finished their respective degrees. I'm happy that I can take my mom shopping or out to eat, go get her hair cut, take her for long Sunday drives and drink milkshakes from Sonic. I'm really pleased that my husband and my brother get along, watch football together, talk about world affairs. Both of them have been too isolated. Both are benefiting from their genuine friendship. Each is doing what he can to help the other. When I think on all we are doing together here, I feel that Ed and I are making a difference, helping each other and my family to live more fulfilling lives.

Still, between family and work, shopping and chores, I have almost no time for myself. I miss walking home from the subway on a fine summer evening. I made it a point to soak up the sights and sounds of my neighborhood, the intriguing aromas wafting from kitchen windows along the way. I knew every garden, every dog and cat along the route. I savored the smell of the ocean or the rain. I even miss riding the subway. Freed from the cares of driving, I had time to read, listen to music, observe my fellow travelers, even take a quick nap. I wasn't alone on the subway or on the Brooklyn sidewalks - in fact, I would've been afraid if I had been alone - but it was acceptable to be separate and apart, to pretend that I was alone. Here, in this house that is now my home, I feel obligated to be engaged and involved, and I'm often end the day utterly exhausted. So I try to carve out some "me" time whenever I can.

There's always something useful I "should" be doing, but I'm trying to remember that I'm no good to anyone when I'm worn out, resentful and stressed. Me time is a necessity if I am to be the sweet jelly in the middle of the sandwich that is my family.