Finding a Hero

December 16, 2005 | Category: Family, It's a Trip

This is turning into a very special holiday....

I think back to the early days of 'blogging'. Back when my site was one of those wedding websites that I would update each day with details and commentary that no one in the world could have cared about. I remember wanting to win a Way Cool Wedding award so bad.... and squealing when I did.

I was happy. Not the silly kind of happy that I'd been in my 20's, but there was a lightness in me. For a couple fo years there, I can remember thinking that there was something brightly surreal in my world... to be having all my dreams come true. Not perfect, no. Not without struggle. Not without tears.

But to meet someone that inspired my respect, and my love. To walk with him into a lifeof "us". To be hired as a full-time employee of a corporation, for the first time in my life. To have benefits and a 401K and life insurance and stuff. Paid vacation. Oh, paid vacation is so nice....

To see the two pink lines on the pregnancy test... to hang on to that baby so hard. To will him to survive inside me. To touch his face with my face, to look up through my tears at my husband. To know we were a family, now. In a way we'd never been before.

And then the bottom dropped out.

I have shared this struggle out loud, because keeping it to myself almost destroyed me. Carrying the weight of the world because an illness has rendered your partner dependant .... it's a walk I don't think I was strong enough to make. I have seen so many, many websites full of so much more grace, and patience than I have shown.

No. I haven't shown much dignity. I am ashamed to say it... but I got angry.

And everyone in a 100-mile radius got to feel the blowback.

I got angry, stayed angry, got counseling, and was still angry. Look, I'm the first one to praise better living through chemistry, okay? Drugs are beautiful. I'll put it on a t-shirt and wear it proudly. Are you listening, Tom Cruise? DRUGS ARE BEAUTIFUL.

They just didn't work for me.

It's like the old story about the lion with the thorn in his paw. He growls and snarls and treats everyone around him like crap.

And let's recall, shall we?

Did we heal the Lion with a double dose of Wellbutrin and some discussion about his feelings?

No, I think not.

We took the thorn out of his paw.

My thorn has been stuck in my paw for 5 years. It has been the burden of being the one left to do it all.

Luckily, for most of those years I had 3 amazing bosses in a row at Mega. Thank God, and I mean that with every drop of blood in my veins. These guys challenged me, supprted me, drew out my best, and affirmed that I was valuable. I worked from home, tons of flexibility, and still was able to make an important contribution.

Not that a good job made life bearable. Just a little less unbearable.

I can remember, in one my truly gone-nuts moments, screaming at CD that he had to be well already.

Because, you know, screaming has been scientifically proven to heal anything that ails ya.

I remember that and I just want to hide in a corner with my embarressment.

Then (insert ominous music here) last spring. When I entered the world of the Very Bad Boss. And this, this is where the line got drawn in Sharpie. This, this on top of already been physically and emotionally as burnt as my last batch of ginger snaps. This is where I went against a Sicilian when Death was on the line. This, this was where I got racked up like a goose in the roner of the night while I was blinded by the light....

Wait. I am babbling.

*ahem*

What I mean to say is this.... ding.

I got done.

Time to take the crazy life back to Target for an exchange.

Seriously....? I needed a hero.

Someone to hold me and tell me it is going to be all right. Someone to get on the line with me, and help carry the load. What I've needed was to not be sitting on the couch at 3 in the morning, rocking back and forth and wondering what I was going to have to fail at so I could at least get some of the other stuff done.

Because that's what I had been doing for years.

The paradigm was desperate for a shift.

I dreamed of doing science experiments with Bear in the afternoons and making chicken pot pie from scratch. Taking one of Dee's yoga classes. But most of all, of feeling not alone anymore.

I used to beg God, in my prayers. Please. Give me the strength because I don't have it..

In in my waking days, I wished for a hero.

Well. CD came home the other night and told me that he'd found a possible second job. And wrapped his arm around me. And told me we could handle this together. That we could handle anything together. That I should pick a date, and walk off the job. Done. And I looked at him like I haven't looked at him in years. And I saw something in his eyes, and realized it was a guy I haven't seen in a long, long time.

My husband.

I wasn't expecting it. I'm not sure I trust it. Did things get better, while I was busy complaing about them?

Was there a memo? Did I get the memo?

But no. There he is. And I think he means it. And I think it's real. And I think maybe, it's time to hold my arms open and have faith. Thats the only way we'll know for sure....

Forget the knight on the dang horse.

I think, maybe, there's something much better right here.

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