At times, life has felt intense lately—Ben's getting surgery in a few weeks to remove a congenital cyst in his neck and I'm having pre-op freakouts although I know he'll be in top-notch hands, there was a crime in our area involving a home invasion, a dad I knew died from a stroke and a young mother committed suicide, we're starting to figure out Sabrina's plans for high school, the industry I love and adore (magazines) is going through changes. But then, how do you feel stressed or sad when there's chubby bunny?
When Max was a little guy and I was a walking ball of anxiety, one of the only things that would cheer me up was to dress him in this navy velvet sailor suit a friend got for him and take photos. He look ridiculously adorable. For a little while, I wasn't thinking about his development or what the future held. I was giggling and relishing Max's yumminess.
It's impossible not to be in the moment when you're being silly, as Ben regularly reminds me. We have silly conversations, like this:
Ben: "You no go to work today! I go to work today!"
Me: "But Ben, you're going to school!"
Ben: "No! I go to work! You go to school!"
Me: "But Ben, I'm too big to go to school!"
Ben: "No, you little!"
We play silly games, including not-hide and seek in which he hides and announces "I hiding behind the couch!" and then I walk into the living room and stand right in front of him and pretend not to see him.
Sometimes, he likes to grab stuff—my phone, a magazine I'm reading, the mail—and dash off and do laps around our first floor, and I'll chase him a bit then go the other way and surprise him and we both laugh so hard.
Silly therapy: It's the best. Wishing you some chubby bunniness today.
It's always hard to hear about someone, even a stranger, who died by suicide. I was a crisis counselor and I am also someone who struggles with her mental health ans is close to many people who also struggle and go down very dark paths. We expect people to fight for very limited resources when they are at their most vulnerable and day after day I hear of yet another person who died. I gave up crisis counseling because I saw too many people reach out and still not get help or be given entirely inappropriate help. Yet I have also seen great kindness during very difficult times. The stranger who looked at me and asked if I needed a hug and walked with me as we both left loved ones in a psychiatric hospital. His girlfriend who after that made sure to ask him to walk with me every day because, while she was hurting and physically very sick, she saw my pain at leaving someone in a place that was checking boxes but not offering much help. The worker at my favorite local nursery who let me take home $100 worth of plants with the trust I would pay it back. He didn't know I was having a horrible day and so frazzled I left my wallet at home. The couple at a lovely if modest bed and breakfast who have repeatedly gone beyond their roll as hosts to offer comfort and welcome during difficult times.
ReplyDeleteSometimes there is nothing we can do, stuck in a system that is not fit for purpose, but sometimes little kindnesses we offer without thinking prop someone up for one more day and sometimes that one more day is all they need. Or sometimes we just made that one day a bit better and that matters too, regardless of the outcome.
Beautifully said, and an excellent reminder to pay it forward. It's so true: it always heartening to be the beneficiary of a kindness, but it feels just as good to do something for someone else.
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