We had less than 10 appointments left when I had a sort of out-of-my-body, coming-to-Jesus moment while sitting in the radiation center waiting room.
When Chris asked me a few days ago if he could drive us to Target instead of me, because his vision has come back, an unexpected thing happened.
It’s real. It’s hard. It’s me. And that’s good.
That was all before finding out that my upcoming days had big, fat question marks on them! Now it feels like fear is right before me chuckling and calling me, sucker!
I found inspiration from a post that came across my Instagram feed last week. It had to do with something called a Pride Board that a second-grade teacher uses to empower her students by posting upon it their everyday successes. No matter how big or not big.
I was eating lunch with my boys yesterday when Logan hit me with a big one. I can never prepare myself for the topic bombs he drops and as he get older, and its happening with more and more frequency.
“Mom, what does the word, Gay, mean?”
…And then I thought of Prakash again and the idea that change is universal occurred to me in a big way. No one is free from it. Not me or you or him or them or the President of the United States!
Warning!! This is an Extreme Hike!!
It’s not a mid-life crisis. If it were, I’d be driving around in an orange Chevy Camaro.
It’s like I dropped it somewhere back last year and kept moving forward without remembering to run back and get it.