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I’m not usually one to blog two days in a row, so I will try keep this short and to the point…
The profoundly therapeutic effect of the kind of love and compassion that comes pouring in after a blog post is one that never ceases to amaze me. My reality from last night to today hasn’t changed, yet my emotional state feels so much more calm, regulated and at peace. Less fearful. More hopeful. Less alone.
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The other day, I picked up my older son from school and tripped and fell on the way back to the parked car. It happens sometimes. As we waited at a stop sign on our way home, I saw one of the dad’s from his kindergarten class 3 years ago walking in front of us. I knew he had had a stroke a few years back. He walked with a limp and for the first time, I saw him crossing the street using two canes. As I stared at him through the windshield, I decided, somewhat spontaneously, that there was no better time to broach the subject of a cane with my son than at that moment. “Oh look, X’s dad has two canes. Maybe I’ll get one like his,” I said. And then waited. Right away he responded, “You’re going to get a cane, mommy? That looks weird! That would be weird. I don’t think you should get one.” Of course, I validated his feelings with a simple, “Yes, you’re right. It would look different.” He went on to ask why I needed one. I explained that I didn’t necessarily need one, but that as different and as “strange” as it would be to use one, I’d rather be safe than actually risk getting hurt. And so we left it at that. And that was satisfactory to him.