If I ran away, I’d never have the strength to go very far
How would they hear the beating of my heart...
When I was a little girl, I would, as many kiddos do, get angry with my parents for one thing or another -- and then threaten to run away. Had a little train case that used to belong to my nana which I would pack with my important personal belongings -- a blanket, couple of stuffed animals and a book or five. And then with a defiant look on my face I would march out the door, right past my parents, determined never to return. At least for a while.
Lest you think my folks were candidates for the Department of Children and Families paddy wagon for letting me leave so easily, I can assure you they were not as much concerned as they were confident in my predictability. For each and every time I began my runaway adventure, I made a stop at our next door neighbors’ house. The lady of the house was a genteel Southern belle named Mary Elizabeth, also known affectionately as Bibby, who was my third grandmother.
Bibby would invite me in, chat with me a bit, then proceed to feed me dinner (usually waffles!) -- I always seemed to hit the road around suppertime. After my tummy was full and my chest relieved of my grievances, she would walk me through the gate between our houses and deposit me back home safe and sound.
Bibby passed away earlier this year -- and while I think of her often, she’s really been on my mind today.
You see, I’m looking to run away and could use a dose of her special TLC. And some waffles.
It’s been a tough couple of days around here. Days and events that have reminded me of the challenges I face as the mama to a special needs kiddo. Will had a seizure on Sunday night -- he’s fine now, no worse for wear. I found him in the midst of it next to his keyboard. Nothing more sobering than discovering your child in distress like that and not knowing that something had happened. Fortunately, it didn’t last long -- didn’t even have to administer the medication we have for such events. After a good night’s sleep and a quiet (relatively speaking -- nothing is ever quiet with Will around) day at home yesterday, he appears to be right as rain. Thank goodness.
However, he put on a terribly loud and dramatic display this morning in front of school -- a world-class tantrum. Weeping, wailing, tears -- the whole tantrum repertoire . He sat down smack in the middle of the sidewalk, refusing to move -- or to tell me why he was so upset. You would have thought I was asking him to walk across coals barefoot or to watch a marathon of that dreadful Flava Flav sitcom. After physically picking him up -- all 55 pounds of red-faced, teary charm -- and carrying him to the door, I finally got him to the classroom. Where he walked in, sat next to his teacher, looked up and calmly said “it’s too early for school.” And proceeded to have a lovely and productive day.
That little incident was the straw that broke the camel’s tear drops -- and I proceeded to sob on and off for the better part of the day. Ridiculous, I know -- but I think a good deal of that angst was some post-traumatic stress from the seizure over the weekend. No matter how hardened or accustomed I think I might be to such things, my psyche always takes a hit when they happen -- as does my subconscious. My dreams have been vivid and unsettling the last two nights -- all about me not having control of a situation. Paging Dr. Freud...
I’m tired. In the mood to run away from being a responsible adult. Not practical. Not something I’m especially proud of. But it is what it is. I love Will - please don’t get me wrong. He is the love of my life. But sometimes, I just need a breather. A change. A time-out. Today is one of those days.
I tend to wallow in the woe-is-me-my-life-sucks mud puddle for a little while. Then... I remember all my blessings. Which always exceed the number of not-so-great things on the list of my life. And I know that this wretched mood too shall pass. It always does.
On days like this, I find myself singing this song.
It's not that easy being green
Having to spend each day the color of the leaves
When I think it could be nicer being red, or yellow or gold
Or something much more colorful like that
It's not easy being green
It seems you blend in with so many other ordinary things
And people tend to pass you over 'cause you're
Not standing out like flashy sparkles in the water
Or stars in the sky
But green's the color of Spring
And green can be cool and friendly-like
And green can be big like an ocean, or important
Like a mountain, or tall like a tree
When green is all there is to be
It could make you wonder why, but why wonder why
Wonder, I am green and it'll do fine, it's beautiful
And I think it's what I want to be
Yep. I am green. It’s beautiful. And when all is said and done, it is what I want to be.