A Touch of Nervous Energy

Dearest Rachel –

What with having woken up before six o’clock on a Saturday to shower and tend to the dog (although in fairness, I actually managed to do the former without waking up the old guy! Huzzah!), making a point to attend this morning’s Bible study, followed by running about on errands until about two or three, I really should be just taking a nap at this point, especially since Daniel has Logan over and they are busily watching Danganronpa in the other room, so my conscious presence is not needed anymore. But for some reason I can’t quite do it. Just suffering from a touch of nervous energy, I suppose. So, despite having written you a couple of things already today, I figured I might as well give you a recap of the days activities, such as they were.

I will say that this mornings study was rather a sparsely attended. Not sure why, although I’ll admit that the wrapup of our sermon series on Exodus did feel a little bit like a clip show, where various passages were linked to others in the New Testament, where Jesus describes Himself (and is described by others) as the Passover lamb, the Bread of life, the living Water… and of course, the I AM. For what it’s worth, it is clear that nobody gets to say that he didn’t claim to be God. If nothing else, why else would the teachers and the scribes get all bent out of shape about him in the first place?

Unlike most mornings, I didn’t stick around afterwards. Look, I may not be like you, hanging around until everybody gets cleared out at any social function, but I do often stay and talk a little bit with some of the others. But today I had to clear out in a hurry; the folks had let me know that the senior center on Central Road was having an electronics collection drive, and it was supposedly ‘first come, first served,’ with the suggestion that they might just run out of space before it was scheduled to end at twelve noon. So, once the study was over, I made tracks to get over there; I’d already packed the car with the one last old television:

Which I purchased safely in the passenger seat next to me

And seven, count them, seven monitors – either old and bulky CRTs or non-functional LCDs

Which this gentleman helped me get out of my trunk, and toss into an large cardboard box that would be a ultimately lifted into a… well, not a garbage truck, but a truck nonetheless for hauling this garbage to… wherever.

Now, I did get home with plenty of time before Logan showed up, but I have to admit I didn’t hang out as much with Daniel as I probably should have. I mean, I did pick up breakfast for myself (at Taco Bell, sorry – although for what it’s worth, they don’t seem to have a breakfast menu anymore. I had to ask for a soft taco with bacon, which I got, but with lettuce and cheese and tomatoes on it, rather than eggs. Don’t know that you would’ve been pleased by this development), and a beverage for him as per our old habits, But it didn’t occur to me to call him, because I wasn’t sure that he would be awake when I got home. As it turned out, I should’ve bothered, as the dog had woken him up, and he had put the old boy out. On the other hand, I’d already gotten him strudel from the local grocery store, so it wasn’t that he didn’t have anything available for breakfast.

So I was at the dining room table, noshing on what I had brought home, while Daniel stayed in his recliner, drinking from his Baja Blast and leaving the strudel sitting next to him. And when I finished, I joined him in the family room to watch a few videos before Logan showed up, when there was a knock at the door.

No, it wasn’t Logan. It turned out it was another one of the Parvin children, come to visit the old homestead. This lady was visiting from Florida (attending a wedding for her niece, evidently), and just had her husband stop by so she could take pictures of the old place. I offered to let her come in and take a look around, seeing as how she could take a look around now. And at this point, I wish I’d been more insistent, as I’m curious as to how old our carpeting and the paint job is; do they date from the days in which she grew up here, or were they changed when the owners we bought the place from moved it? I wouldn’t mind knowing that, at this point.

But by the time I responded to Chompers’ barking, and brought him back inside the house, she and her husband had already left. Well, that’s another story I’m not going to learn the answer to.

It was at this point that I decided to head to the office, and respond to a notification that I had gotten about somebody looking at my profile, and figured I should send a message back. I’m still not sure that I’m doing this right, but I guess at this point it doesn’t really matter that much. Nothing is serious at this point. I will say that I was impressed by one profile that spoke about volunteering for mission work and disaster relief in various places around the world – Cape Town and Mozambique, just to name a couple of locations – but she mentioned a couple of names of people she followed in terms of preaching, which I looked up. Let me just say that Daniel would approve of her, but I don’t think anyone else would. So…

It was at this point that Logan arrived, and after greeting him, I cleared out of the family room and off to the bedroom for a moment, before realizing I needed to get some stuff – we’re out of bags to collect after Chompers, for instance. But wouldn’t you know it, both of the nearby dollar stores didn’t seem to have any little boxes of bags. I had to settle on going to Walmart, and even then, I had to ask where the pets department was. In comparison to the dollar store, the bags aren’t cheap at Walmart, but they are bigger (not that we need them that way) and probably both a little more durable and plentiful. So there’s that. I also managed to pick up some vegetables for him, so I’m settled for preparing MREs for a while, too.

All of which brings us to about three o’clock, where I could settle in on the bed (and yes, I still stick to my side, you know) and nod off – if only my brain would let me. So since I keep thinking that I need to tell you about this and that, here you are. Hopefully this will settle my brain’s conscience, and I can get in a few winks before I should pick up some thing for the three of us to eat.

The funny thing is, I don’t really have to worry about contacting you tomorrow about things that are going on, because I’ve already scheduled a couple of letters to drop to you. One is pretty short, being taken from your journal from the Purpose-Driven Life study, while the other is the lead up to the anniversary of your brain tumor surgery, and all that went on between us as we first contemplated our own (and, more to the point, your) mortality.

But there always seems to be things to say to you, even if it’s just keeping you up-to-date on the things that are happening on the planet that you left behind. I don’t know if it interests you, or if it interests anybody, but I present the story to you, and you can take it for whatever you think it’s worth.

Anyway, I’m going to take that nap I promised myself. Or do a whites load of laundry, I don’t know. Still have too much nervous energy, I think.

I’ll talk to you later, honey. Love you.

Published by randy@letters-to-rachel.memorial

I am Rachel's husband. Was. I'm still trying to deal with it. I probably always will be.

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