Joy and Sadness

There's joy and sadness tonight. The joy is that Jacob, just shy of ten months, has begun to take those first shaky steps. He's very proud of himself as he totters along. Yesterday he took eight steps. Today I begged Jordan to bring him over for lunch to show me. Bribed her with turkey meatloaf sandwiches--so good. If he's walking that early, I fear she'll have her hands full--or her feet busy--chasing him.
I've been having trouble with anxiety lately, that demon that has haunted me for more than thirty years. Usually, with a mild medication, I have it under control but it's been getting worse. Trying to figure out why is a useless exercise, but it got really bad on the trip to the King Ranch where I should have been relaxed and having the time of my life. Poor Jeannie no doubt got tired of hearing, "Jeannie! Wait! I lost my balance." She was, however, wonderful about it and confessed later that she was worried about me. I worried that my hand would get a tremor and I wouldn't be able to sign books--of course, anticipation is worse than the actual. I signed eighty books or more if not with a flourish at least with a decent handwriting. Friday I went to the doctor and said I didn't seem to be able to control it. Bless him. He said, what I really knew but am never sure others believe, it's chemical--it's not a weakness in me. He prescribed a
24-hour medication and warned against self-medicating with wine, which I know I'd been doing. So I've given that up for all but a smidgen, which he said was okay as long as I wasn't using it to control my symptoms, and I'm feeling much better, even though the medication won't take effect for about two weeks. Haven't given up my walking stick, but I've lost that sense of dread. Sometimes I think I ought to write about this to help the many who suffer the same demons and feel the guilt. It cheered me just to know there was help out there, outside of giving myself stern lectures.
Of course my minor problems pale in the face of the tragedy that is gripping the nation today. The shootings at Virginia Tech are so tragic, so awful that it's hard to wrap your mind around it, at least for me. And yet, like many others, I am carefully watching the news coverage, even while horrified. John and Elizabeth Edwards, who have suffered their own tragedy, sent out a message--and while I'm not necessarily supporting his candidacy--I appreciated his candor. He said that it's hard to feel anything but the grief but he hoped that the families and the Virginia Tech community would know that they have the support of an entire nation. And he added that thought we all have at times, though thankfully not as serious times as this--that he wished that the day could start all over again, a day filled with promise and a future for those that died only a bit later.