I’ve got your back – such powerful and encouraging words to say to some one. I long to hear those words so much right now that it leaves me feeling a little blue. I must remind myself that my true courage first comes from my spiritual connection and self-confidence – encouraging words from a close friend is bonus. A much-needed bonus.
With that said – I have grown quite weary from my on going job search compiled with my on going health challenges compiled with a letter stating that my COBRA health insurance is coming to an end. I also have times when indecisiveness blasts through my brain as I try to decide if I should surrender and accept (as much as this angers me to admit) should I keep looking for a job when there is a good chance (maybe) I might have to call in sick – or should I take action and start the foot work to go on disability. Who knows. I might be getting better or I might be staying the same and this is as good as it gets. One thing I do know is I have not been living a lifestyle that I could choose for myself.
Again I try to push this out of my mind . . . I was about to focus on something else . . . Or not.
My thoughts return to my entire summer. I am becoming a hermit that I do not recognise as I stay home and heal. More tests from the doctors exhaust me. A biopsy hurts like hell and I am shocked by the amount of bruising and lasting, endless soreness. It was benign, which is good. But the bod has had quite enough of this ill-health. I am so over it! I must ramp it up and change this hermit, before the hermit continues to change me towards an unsafe and unhealthy level mentally.
I will stop this observation that unfortunately borders on the edge of wasteful self-pity. Looks like I need a biopsy on my self-pity as well. I will cut it out, put it under my microscope and give you the results by end of next week.
. . . . . My mind does a mommy flash back. One thing I have learned time and time again is that showing in my actions that I have my son’s back is even more meaningful than saying the words to him . . .
When my son was almost 4 years old we decided to go to a movie. Upon arriving, we parked the car and walked through the structure towards the theater. I was walking close to the rows of parked cars and Tyler was walking on my left side as I held his hand. While Tyler talked enthusiastically about his desire to see the movie – he froze in his tracks as a car went flying right past us. I quickly pulled Tyler in closer to me – it was frightening. My whole body started shaking as I yelled out, “HEY slow down!” The car skidded around the tight corner of the structure and out of sight. I took a deep breath and did my best to keep my composure in check. I leaned down and picked up my son and carried him as I continued to walk. He held on tight around my neck with his little arms. Automatically I gently reassured him all was well and I softly let him know I did not see or hear the car coming up from behind us either. Even when we are aware of our surroundings – sometimes this can happen. Silent, we kept on walking. I felt my anger and protective spirit deep in my body. Tyler was ready to walk on his own again and he landed safely back on the ground with a light hop.
As we arrived to the lower level, that same car was trapped waiting behind another car. As I got closer, I could see the driver and his passenger were teenagers. Taking one step forward, I kicked in their passenger car door as I hollered at the young driver, “HEY! You could have hit my son! You were way too close! It’s so dangerous to be driving that fast!”
I’m kinda tall (and kinda loud too) and I scared the livin’ day lights out of those kids From the expression on their faces, I must have had steam coming out of my nostrils like an angry bull as I kicked their car. They both looked right at me and said in unison, “I’m sorry! I’m sorry!” My son had never seen me react in such a manner – the little guy was speechless.
As we quietly and safely sat in our seats as the movie started, the only thing my son said to me was, “I like that you did that Mom”.
“I love you Son.” I smiled to myself and knew I’d never do such a thing again.
Today my son knows that even though he is a tall 26-year-old confident man with a successful career – I still have his back. But now, he has mine as well.
How do I know this?
He told me.