Years ago I read that no one needs a vacation more than the person who's just returned from one.
"What an indulgent statement," I always thought. "Try telling that to bitter, overworked coworkers without sun tans."
But, as ludicrous as it sounds, this week has proven that to be absolute truth.
I could really use a vacation!
Despite my best intentions to come back and show 2013 who's boss - me, hopefully - it turns out my immune system had other plans for this first week back in the real world.
The last three days:
In elementary school I always loved word puzzles (like the above).
That's not-so-top-secret code for "I have been under the weather," by the way.
I had every intention of tackling my resolutions when we made it home - resolutions about living healthier, more intentionally, and with less TV.
Instead I've spent most of my waking hours (which have been considerably less than usual) focused on simply breathing.
I've also spent a ridiculous amount of time thinking about the expression "Under the Weather."
Here's where all that thinking, and copious amounts of cough syrup, have led:
For all the silly, non-sensical phrases that exist in the English vernacular…
“Raining cats and dogs.” “Don’t go chasing waterfalls."
I’ve got to say “Under the weather” is one that totally works.
When I get sick there are a few things that immediately come to mind, and one of them is rain. Rainy days and sick days should be one and the same.
After all, no one wants to be sick on a gorgeous sunny day. Rainy days were made for recuperating from the sniffles. (That and Law & Order marathons.)
The other thought that always creeps its way in, though, when I’m laying under as many blankets as I can find and wishing I’d purchased Kleenex when I was able-bodied enough to visit the store, is how much I inevitably miss my mom.
Whether you’re feeling down, out, just blue, or flu-ish, there’s something instinctively comforting about being around a mom.
Being around your own mom is best, obviously!
She knows just how you like your soup. What yummy drink to have on hand as a chaser for the nasty liquid medicines. Which movies you’ll want to watch (You’ve Got Mail) and that chocolate chip cookies have healing powers.
But any mom’s presence has a way of bringing comfort.
Why is that? How is that? And do all women grow to have that ability?
Mikael has been incredibly supportive and patient with pathetic, sickly me this week.
He's made soup and tea and done anything he could to make me feel better (including looking the other direction when I ordered an embarrassing amount of Chinese food).
Most importantly, though, he's sat with me, offered words of encouragement and lots of hugs.
He's been there with me, through it all.
Sadly, last week, when Mikael was sick, I think I dropped the ball on the caring and comforting.
I did my best, bringing him lunch and Tylenol. But I had a hard time just sitting with him, trying to cheer him up with my presence.
Instead I put the Nyquil on the table then basically fled the room.
I wasn't consciously trying to abandon the poor boy in his time of need.
I was just so worried, and frantic and frustrated, I didn't know what to do but keep busy.
I hated that he was sick on vacation. I wanted him to get better so badly.
I tried my best to will or wish him to health.
But I had a super hard time just being there, beside him. (Which is maybe what he needed most.)
And maybe that's why I always miss my mom so much when I’m sick.
'Cause she was always really good at the “just being, with me.”
Whether I was heartbroken or puking my guts up, had a bicycling injury or an I-forgot-to-do-my-homework headache, she was great at being there for me, and with me, until the aches and pains subsided.
She didn't run away first chance she got. Or simply stop the bleeding then hurry on about her day.
She was patient enough to simply sit there with me, until I was ready to get back on my feet again.
She was willing to push "pause" on her own plans to be fully present with me.
And the older I get the more I realize what a remarkable gift that was.
She understood that sometimes sitting with someone through the tough time is the best thing you can possibly do.
It doesn’t fix anything, necessarily, but it lets her know she’s not alone.
And that counts an awful lot when those rainy days come.
I’m not there yet, in the land of women with strong motherly instincts.
I don’t know how warm a bottle should be, at what age baths take place in tubs instead of kitchen sinks, or how anyone lives through Driver’s Ed. on the parental side of the equation.
And I suppose I'll learn most of those things when the time comes that I need to.
But even now, as a wife, as a woman, I'd sure like to get better at the being there when people need me.
At being willing to sit with someone through the pain. To simply be present in a time of need.
Instead of racing on my way. Or worrying. Struggling against circumstances (that often can't be changed).
I want to accept that sometime's choosing to be with someone is all that can be done.
And I want to know that sometimes that's enough.
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