Therapy...Mustang Style

What seems like not that long ago, like yesterday in so many ways, yet like 17 lifetimes ago in others, I was the owner of a Mustang.  Red.  Two door.  As Mustangs tend to do, it sounded good, and the power, even when not taken advantage of fully, was nice.  Ok, and...it sounded good.  (Just wanted to make sure you got the important part....)  I've written many a blog post about said car, and created many a scrapbook page about it, too...but they all said just about the same thing, and I'm going to recap it again, now, only I'm also going to add to the story.

It's no secret that my son and I are a lot alike.  That we have spent a lot of time together, he and I, or that we've grown together over the years.  If you were to ask us at different times, in different places, without us knowing the other's answer, we would both tell you that our time in the Mustang, windows down, radio up, singing at the top of our lungs while playing "honk and wave" was among our top favorite activities...if not THE top favorite.  We did a lot of talking, sang a lot of songs, and did a whole lot of smiling in that car while we covered the miles...boy, did we ever.  We grew up together, Kevin and I, and we talked and talked and talked, about everything under the sun, and about nothing, and we did this all at the same time.  Sometimes, we had words, sometimes, we didn't.  Sometimes, a look was all we needed to convey our thoughts, others, a touch.  A word spoken between us could actually tell a whole story, or it could cause the other to laugh hysterically with no outward appearance to anyone else as to why said word was funny.  We have a connection, us two, that is unbreakable.  He is the only person in the world that can know when something is wrong with me, even if I try my best to hide it.  In front of him, I cannot hold it together, try as I might.  On a bad day, I will hear from him, out of the blue....yes, we have a connection.

The memories we made in that car, the fun times, the sad times, the talky times, the quiet times, they all came rolling back to me tonight, as we sat, roles reversed in a Mustang, music up, windows down, singing at the tops of our lungs.  I pondered on the fact that I was in the passenger seat; he was driving me around!  The problems we spoke of were not about a high ball that should have been a strike, or about the steel that didn't quite happen, or the fact that someone was apologizing for someone else yelling for some reason throughout the day.  No, these problems were of a different variety, the grown-up kind, the kind you can't make better by saying, "better luck next time" or "rub a little dirt on it"....these are not fixed with band aids and kisses.  These talks can only be prayed about, pondered upon, and prayed for some more.  Such adult topics, why?  I want to talk about baseball again!  I don't want our time to be tainted with bittersweet, with sadness, with irony!!!!!  I just want it to be us, happy and free, smiling and singing, but it will never be again that way.  But if I were to have to share the night, the events, the news, it would be in this fashion that I would choose....wrapped up in a car with someone I love, who loves me back, leaning on each other for sanity as we try to deal with the topics at hand, and knowing that if nothing else is true and real, our love for each other is, and will always be until the end of time.

May our next "session" be one of happy tears and of joy!

The School of Life

Sometimes, I have rough days.  Sometimes, I have rough weeks, and sometimes, thankfully not often-times, I have *really* rough days...or weeks.  I don't know why I am that way, but I can usually recognize it as it comes on, and mostly, I can ward it off.  I've schooled myself to think positively...I trained my mind to stop and reprogram when it derails.  But sometimes, just sometimes....that darkness gets a hold of me before I realize what's happened, and it takes a minute for me to recognize it, and another minute for it to let go of me.

Yesterday, I didn't get out of bed.  I literally sat in the corner, stared, thought of what I should do, and then went back to sleep, woke, tried to read, couldn't, stared, willing myself to think of something, anything, that I wanted to do, but I came up short-handed.  Today was not a better day, except I had to get myself up and go to work and go through the motions of the day.  I had to smile.  I had to say hello.  I had to help people.  I had to mask that darkness with a sunny wrapper.  It was hard.  Really hard.

Tonight, I have come through the darkness, hopefully for "good" this time it's gotten its grips on me, and it is due to a real-life hero I have; one who has led me out of the darkness on many the occasion...the one person in this entire world who has every ounce of respect I've ever been able to muster.  A person wise beyond their years.  A person who has ministered to more than they can count, who isn't done yet, who is bound for greatness...the next Mother Teresa, if you will, or Nelson Mandela, or Einstein, or Gandhi...this person is there, on that level of greatness.  The funny thing is that this person has no clue the lives that have been touched, the thoughts that have changed the minds of those they have shared with, the actions of love that have made an everlasting difference on uncountable fingers and toes.  They have no idea.  Their mild, caring manner, the love in their eyes, the tenderness with which they handle the feelings and hearts of those around them, the humility and solidness of character that they are blessed with, and work towards each and every day.  This person is the epitome of patience, of love, of solidarity, or peace, of greatness, of maturity, and I am blessed beyond measure to know them.  

This evening, as I lay down and say my prayers, I will count my blessings, not my "curses", and I will remain thankful for every situation, every experience, and every encounter with every person I've dealt with in this lifetime, for it has made me be a better human, and I will ask God that I am able to share of myself in the manner that this hero shared with me, so as to help my fellow person be able to rest peacefully as they lay their head upon their pillow at the end of this day.