Mending my heart – with the boy who stole it
What a difference a day makes!
I’m feeling hopeful and positive. Even while our town is ensconced in fog – a rarity for our area.
It’s so beautiful.
I have to share with you a dream I had the other night.
In it, I was told that my heart condition could no longer be helped by the medicines I took. I was told I could be part of a group that were being ‘put to sleep’. It was explained that it was a mercy ending and did I want to participate?
I thought about it and decided it was probably the best route. I didn’t want to put my family through a sudden ugly passing. I also somehow knew if I didn’t take this opportunity, I would die alone.
The time was arranged and I told my friends.
The day of the arranged ‘end’ – I went to the clinic. There were others there, dressed comfortably and quietly entering a room.
I changed my mind.
I was told that the only way I could get out of it was to have my doctor give his permission.
I could not for the life of me (no pun intended) remember my doctor’s name! I scoured through a phone book until I finally found him. I called – and there was no answer.
It was at this time, that I should have been dead. I remember checking my Facebook and seeing that a friend had posted a tribute – it was me and a naked mole rat (yup, that little creature at the top of this page). The post had 34 likes at the time I saw it.
I was still alive, but no one knew. So … I ended up going into that room.
I felt the IV – I felt the liquid entering my body and felt myself going under. I tried to fight it – but knew it was too late. I was never to wake up.
As you can imagine, I was very grateful to wake up yesterday morning – and realized – that I needed to address what was hurting my heart.
This rift with my favorite person on the planet was now manifesting not only physically, but into nightmares.
Something had to be done – and so last night, I had a conversation with my son.
I shared my concerns and asked the questions I needed answers to.
When I opened myself up to my son, he opened back.
It was wonderful.
I found a way to help him last night – and as I did, I realized not only were we solving one of his problems together, but I was getting the time I needed with him in the process.
I typed as he dictated a late paper. I saw an area I could be of service – let him focus on the words and let my aptitude for touch typing at great speed make the task less daunting. Get it done so he could get the rest he needed.
We exchanged glances and smiles and laughed together.
“This is how it should be.” I told him. “A balance. Of school and work and relationships and fun – and us. I missed you. And you must reach out when you need help.”
(Which is funny coming from me – ask anyone who truly knows me who has tried to offer their help. I’m SO stubborn – and will only resort to accepting aid if my problem begins to affect those I love.)
I awoke at 11:30 to a sound in my room – and climbing onto my giant bed, was my boy. I suddenly had my entire little family close to me.
Butters snoring on one side, Nic finding sleep on the other. I daren’t move – my heart was smiling.
If that was the last moment of such closeness I get – I’ll hold tight to it. My boy breathing and dreaming, my dog nestled up on my pillow. I lay there and though I was tired, wanted to soak up every second of that. Until my eyes closed again and I found sleep.
And there were no nightmares last night.