the life of zooey who happens to be Bipolar 2
My 3 day head cold is tapering off today. I feel like a functioning member of the society, free of plague and able to walk among the living. My boss kept telling me to ‘hydrate!’ I did this with gallons of water and less (perish the thought) cups of coffee. To break up the monotony, I supplemented my drinking regime with decaffeinated tea.
Fall is a time where I step out on the dance floor with tea, leaving coffee holding up the wall waiting for the next song. I like tea in any form, cold or hot, with or without milk or sugar. Usually the tea I drink is black. Last year, I acquired a box of Lifeboat Tea at the World Market which is a good substitute for black coffee. It’s a great ninja-kick-in-the-face caffeine drink. So I dug around for the small packet of decaf tea bags usually reserved for my mom.
I selected a chamomile tea packet and added hot water.
Chamomile is a comfort drink for me. It reminds me of summers at my grandparent’s. I’m not sure what sort of weeds they had in their lawn, probably some chamomile. Chamomile tea smells exactly like it did when Grandpa Rog mowed. It tasted like fresh summer grass and cool mornings in the small kitchen. It reminded me of Grandma Mae.
Summers at with grandma and grandpa were filled with raspberry picking in their garden, going to the zoo and walks around their small town after dinner. I experienced everyday life of people who lived through the Great Depression where everything made was from scratch and gas at a penny less was discussed quite frequently.
Grandma Mae is a person I miss, even decades after her passing. She had an awesome lap for sitting. She let me play with her arm angel wings, which were cool, soft and jiggly. She made all her bread, pecan rolls, and hamburger buns from scratch. Her pies were legendary in the family and included fresh raspberry, lemon meringue and custard. Grandma Mae wore her hair in tight waves and had it washed and set once a week. She wore sensible tied shoes, polyester pants and sleeveless button down shirts in hot weather. She wore a garden hat and used a basket to collect ripening produce for supper. She used Dove soap, which I use to this day also. She taught me to crochet at 5 years of age.
But most of all, Grandma Mae loved me unconditionally. I cannot recall ONE time she noted I needed to lose a lot or just a little bit more weight to be the pretty girl I should be. I can’t remember her making any critical comments. She was who she was and I was who I was and that was fine with her. She freely shared her daily activities, showing no impatience with me as a lively child. I honestly don’t remember anyone else loving me so absolutely until my dear hubby. It is something I still cherish. Because of her, I strive to be Grandma Mae with others.
I hear the screen door slamming,