The Dead Woods
The girls have been home from school, sick, for the last week of term. L isolating with Covid and A with a ceaseless cold that cycles between fever, sore throat, snotty nose and a chesty cough. Then there is the headlice. Every few days they sit for half an hour, sometimes quietly submitting, sometimes screaming at me between snuffles and coughs, as I scrape the lice comb through their hair. The goofiness, the bickering, the sick plaintiveness has filled our little home along with the piles of discarded tissues. My patience has finally evaporated and condensed in a hard pane of ice on our frozen windows. I’ve started making suggestions to the family – perhaps wait for 5 minutes before you ask me a question? See if you can find your misplaced hairbrush yourself. Try putting your candy cane wrapper in the trash rather than leaving it has a decoration under the Xmas tree. I am the go-to person who knows where everything is and how everything works. I have become a rigid gritted-teeth mother, all compassion smothered in anger. So now, in addition to my anxiety for the girls health and my frustration over the way this week has unfolded, I feel guilty for my exasperation.
I pushed Jon and the girls out of the house for a walk and it was so blissfully peaceful. There wasn’t Jon swearing in the kitchen, L wasn’t singing along to The Smiths, A wasn’t hanging off the beam. Here was an opportunity to complete a task uninterrupted or to be still and let my mind sift through my thoughts, plans, feelings. As soon as they returned, cheerful from the fresh air and exercise, I pulled on my boots and coats and disappeared out the door. They were amused by my abrupt departure.
I paced across the frozen field and turned into the dark and eerie woods which I call the “Dead Woods.” The ground is almost barren between the parallel lines of densely planted conifers. The trees creak and crack as you walk between them, otherwise the woods are too silent. They feel as though they are about to gobble you up. I let the sinister atmosphere creep over my skin, I feel alert, tingling, ready for a otherworldly encounter. Before I feel too spooked, I hurriedly refocus my imagination, who knows what monster it may create. I try to fill myself with calmness and contentment. I am a small flickering light passing through the darkening woods. I am impervious to any malignant forces gathering at the edge of my vision. I breathe deeply, smile, and relax as the natural substantial world surrounding me mixed with a touch of my imaginary magic, pushes my irritations and worries and guilt to the back of my mind. When I return home, I’ll be ready to appreciate my wonderful family, for a while at least.