That about sums up my day yesterday.
I went to my home group meeting for the first time in six weeks. Drain tube free. Pain free. Good weather. I was grateful that the hour drive was possible. I knew that getting out of my head was the best medicine for me. It would be a win-win for everyone. I sat in my chair before the meeting and felt such relief to be there even though I found it harder to be honest when people asked how I was than to fake it and be cheerful and upbeat. My ego gets caught up in wanting to be a poster child for breast cancer so people can tell me how wonderful I am. My ego will seek its glory any which way it can. It's not picky.
And then he came in and any hope I had for accolades vanished in about 15 seconds flat. He is like a father figure to me. He is as tough as nails and has the softest heart around. His way of dealing with the worry that my increasing weight loss caused him was to be gruff with me. We also have known one another long enough to have had deep conversations that have created a mutual respect of one another. He is the real deal.
So yesterday I was on my way back to my seat with a cup of tea when he hugged me and asked me how I was. "Not good." I tell him. "What do you mean 'not good'?" He said this as if it's against the law to not be fine. I looked at him and asked, "What? It's against the rules of being a human being to be not good?" "Yes." He said it in a 'you're darn tootin' kind of tone. And before the filter between my brain and my mouth had a chance to engage I looked at him and said, "Fuck you."
I had an internal 'oh shit I only meant to think that, not say it' moment. Then he laughed and said, "Good. You have some fight in you."
After the meeting I tell him I am sorry. That I hope I never say that to him again. He tells me that I need to be able to say things like that to people like him who can take it. I put my hand on his heart and say, "No. It's no excuse. I know you have a tender heart and I don't want to walk on it." He looks at me and says, "I have no idea what you are going through." So few people have had the humility to say that to me and it brought tears to my eyes.
9 comments:
He's so right. None of us really knows what you are going through.
I'm glad he was there to "take it," glad he said it, that you still have some fight in you, glad to be hearing your story.
Hugs to you, my friend.
He sounds like the real deal.
Rock on darlin'. And cuss if you need to.
LVC
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Perfect! This was beautiful! Thank you for being you and carrying around all the stuff the way you do and then writing about it, so others (like me) can feel less like we have to be fake and shiny and more normal when we want to say "fuck you" to someone who will understand it. You, my dear, are a breath of fresh air!!
How awesome that you have him in your life. Sometimes that is the only word that fits.
(((hugs)))
A good friend.
One of the things umpteen years of being a pastor taught me along with a number of significant personal losses early in my time in that service was to never, never ever say to anyone in crisis, "I know what you're going through" or "how you feel" or "what it's like" because I don't, they don't.
The classic joke, "You know what assume does?" stands the test of time.
Right on!
Very cool.
Hope that 'getting out of your head' thing helped out.
"My ego will seek its glory any which way it can. It's not picky." oh this is so familiar to me. so good to hear that there is some normal returning. and that you still have got some fight in you :) and of course that tender mercy that is also very deep within you too.
I read the other day a chart that put ego and soul at opposite ends - I liked that - that my soul was the opposite of my ego - I though that helped me a lot. If I am living in the awakening soul space it means that I am far from my ego space that is so desperate for attention and approval.
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