Monday, 9 February 2015

The weight of tiredness

There are those days when demands push up against a drenched-to-the-bone tiredness. Ideas, needs, wants, responsibilities, goals; they all make their mark. A notch in the bone. A weight that drops right through the body. It can sink a person.

I carry, I rock, I sing. Time blurs these into a never-ending rhythm. I fall asleep sitting, leaning against the wall, nursing her. The house, empty and silent, recedes momentarily. As if reality has taken a step back. Then I wake with a start, with a sudden rush of awareness. 

She's still nursing; her mouth moving dreamily, eyes closed with their delicate lace of lashes. Gently, I put her down on the bed, small limbs soft and droopy.

Outside, the sun continues to stream down with its heat that sticks to skin. The pool is plastic, half a meter deep and tucked away behind the washing line. I submerge myself in its ever-changing reflections of blue. I lie back and look up at the trees and see the world from the bottom up. The water, although shallow, is cool and refreshing, and somehow, magically, buoyant.

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