In Mourning

I did something impulsive and in hindsight daft.  When I was at the library, I picked up random books that appealed to me as I walked around the stacks of new arrivals.  As a result, in addition to the fiction book I originally went there for I also left with a cookbook, a sewing/craft book, a book on ballet for adults and a biography.  When I got home I sat out on the deck with my new prizes.  I flipped through the sewing book looking at all the cool sewing craft projects.  The messenger bag made out of shrunken plastic grocery bags.  The date book made out of an inner tube.  Then I moved on to the ballet book and perused the pictures of adults of all ages standing at the ballet bar in ballet slippers, tights and skirts.  Then it was the cookbook where I found a recipe for pumpkin gnocchi.  Drool.  As the day wore on and I kept cycling through the pile, as I couldn't walk around due to the shakes, as I couldn't eat dinner due to my stomach being upset, as I barely made it out to the car to take my kid to school I got more and more upset.  What audacity I had thinking I could do any of these things.  What audacity I had even picking the books up in the first place.  In a moment of weakness I forgot I was ill.  As I read the books I was reminded of all the things I can no longer do.  I wanted to take a ballet class this summer to improve my figure skating.  Also, I just plain enjoy doing ballet.  I always have since I started when I was six.  I was in the middle of sewing my next competition outfit for skating which is currently hanging in the closet unfinished and no longer fits.  I can no longer cook which is a huge bone of contention between me and my husband.  Besides he probably wouldn't like pumpkin gnocchi even if I was well enough to make it anyway.  What audacity!  I cried.  Maybe someday I will be better.  Maybe someday I will dance, skate, sew and cook again.  For now I can only look at the pictures and cry.