I tend to think of myself as a very lucky person.
I didn’t see things that way for a long time, but at almost 40 years old, it’s become very clear to me that I lead a rather charmed life.
Things always work out. No matter how bad something may seem at the time, it always offers that promised silver lining. And I’m always handed the opportunity for hope.
Every bad day (or let’s be honest, every bad week or even month…um, year – life can be hard sometimes) is followed by one that takes my breath away with its beauty and potential. Like someone’s saying, “see – I told you to stick around…and now don’t you appreciate it even more?“
So yeah – I get it now. If we don’t have any bad days, we won’t truly appreciate the good ones. While it doesn’t make that awful feeling of despair or depression feel any better, I always have that window out. I know something better is coming my way, and I just have to have faith in that. To focus on hope.
I spend a lot of time hoping. I think all parents do.
I remember being younger and hearing people say things like, “the most important thing is that you have your health.” It’s only as I get older that I’m finally starting to understand this. To not see it as a trite string of words that miss the point (duh – that’s obvious – doesn’t make me feel any better). But really – it is the bottom line.
This is why I’m so lucky. Because everyone I love is healthy. Or at least getting through whatever health issue they face. And I think that counts.
My mother has had three different kinds of cancer over the past fourteen years. She was in remission for nine and then had to do it all over again – twice – in the past three years. That’s a lot of fighting – and many would have given up. But she didn’t. And she works, and has friends and looks for the good in every day. She enjoys her life and is thankful for it. For her health. And I am so lucky for all of that.
My oldest son is one of the healthiest people I know – despite his refusal to eat anything but variations of cheese on bread. He also has developmental delays. And as he gets older and continues to have them, I get scared. I worry about the future. I do everything I can to try to help. I throw all the money that I have (and don’t have) at therapies that aren’t covered by insurance or offered through our school system. I spend almost every day actively refusing to do anything but hope. And the fact that I am even offered that luxury makes me very lucky.
I have numerous other people in my life who are going through all kinds of physical and emotional challenges. They range from minor to severe – life threatening to soul crushing. And I see them all fighting. Getting through it. Finding their own silver linings. They inspire me to keep hoping. They remind me of how lucky I am to know them. My lucky pennies.
Last week I noticed a strange lump on the back of Eleanor’s knee. It’s huge and it scared the hell out of me. I took her to the doctor and was given an order for an ultrasound and an x-ray. When I found I couldn’t get an appointment until the following week, I was assured by the doctor that it wouldn’t matter. A week wouldn’t make a difference.
I asked questions about whether I should be worried. And was told that it was probably just a benign tumor. But of course no one can tell me what it is with absolute certainty. Instead of focusing on the scary possibilities, I chose to assume it’s fine. To make plans for how we’ll prepare her for the idea of surgery (because benign or not, it will have to come out).
The past week has flown by. I’ve kept myself distracted and only allowed the “it’s nothing” thoughts any air time. And I really do believe that this will be okay. I have hope. I may be scared, but not enough to get in the way of hope. And I know how lucky I am to be able to say that.
When people tell me that I have my hands full (usually when they see me stuffing all three of my wild children into a shopping cart and handing them doughnuts to prevent any escape attempts) I often make the joke that I have a special needs child, an “explosive” child and a girl. This is true. They are a handful. They are not easy and they drive me absolutely crazy sometimes. But god, am I lucky to have them.
Right now – this very minute – I can say that I have three healthy children. I believe in my heart that they will be okay. I can have all the hope I want.
I’m so lucky…
UPDATE: It looks like Eleanor just has a bakers cyst. I’m not sure if it will have to be removed or if it will eventually go away on its own – but I’m SO relieved…
And someday, when they're grown and living on their own and being productive members of society, SOMEBODY.better. give us Mommies a fricking medal, damn it! Cause we
will have TOTALLY earned every shiny piece of it.
SO lucky. <3
You are lucky. And you do have three amazing, healthy children. I refuse to believe anything but that.
You are very lucky. And I love that you can see the luck in all of the crazy day-to-day mayhem. I know I have days where I don't feel so lucky, even though I really really am. Great post and thanks for the reminder about how very lucky we all are. We just have to be willing to see it.
You have such an awesome attitude Kate! And you are so lucky! And so am I, to call you my friend.
Much love to you and your wonderful kids.
And we're lucky to know you and read this. You are incredible. Please keep us posted on Eleanor. If I could I would give you a big hug right now.
You are amazing and so are your wonderful children.
I'll send a little hope your way, too…
So very glad Eleanor is okay1