My ball

As I lay in my bed thinking about all that has to get done before we venture off, my mind stumbles upon the ball hanging in our garage; the ball that directs my car into the garage so that I don't drive too far left or too far right; that ball that is the gauge for when I have arrived home perfectly. As I lay in my bed, I start thinking about how much I am going to miss that swinging ball. I think about how one day, in 9 short weeks, I am going to drive off and the last thing I will see before the garage door shuts is that swinging ball going back and forth. And then the next day, there will be a new set of people driving into MY garage using MY ball. This thought sickens me. The pain I am feeling in my heart about leaving that plastic ball hanging from a flimsy string in my filthy garage is very intense. In fact, I am so sad about this reality that I start crying so hard that I can hardly breathe. I find myself lying on the floor as the fountain of tears flow from my eyes. Am I losing my mind that I am on the floor hysterical about this ball? Yes, perhaps I am. Right now I cannot bare the thought of parting from this inanimate object that has been a steady fixture in my life for at least 8 years in 3 separate homes. My heart is wretched. I am so sad. This is the reality of my life. I know I am doing God's will, but for tonight...and just for tonight...I am very sad to be leaving my ball.

Jess