THE WORLD’S GREATEST

In a few days I’ll be 41.  I have the greatest life, and I’m sure it sounds crazy but I am

quite possibly the most blessed person to have ever lived.  I have a husband that adores me in the midst of all my crazy. I have 8 amazing kids that have patience while I learn and experiment with parenting on the fly. I was raised by amazing parents that thought I was the most talented athlete, poet, singer/songwriter, artist, musician, and DIY genius there was. And at the same time they had a way of being honest enough that reality never strayed so far off that I could completely and utterly embarrass myself while trying to flaunt my amazing talents.  Although, reality was often embarrassing, and there is plenty of flaunting that goes on, somehow the part where I was always THE WORLD’S GREATEST at something kept me from being crushed with humiliation. Hahaha. And if you read enough, you will soon realize that I am THE WORLD’S GREATEST at finding a use for.... ‘dot,dot,dots’ and the comma! As I told my Sister-in-law earlier today, “I am queen of the Run On Sentence!“

     I feel kind of selfish writing about me, but I don’t know anyone else’s thoughts at the moment.  That, and since I’m the only passenger on this red-eye that is still awake, I’m kind of stuck thinking about my world and my thoughts and feelings.  Yes, I’m on a flight across the country right now. My sweet husband fell asleep trying to watch Despicable Me 3.  My 7 youngest kids are at tournaments and staying with family until Rick gets back from this trip.  And the neighbor has our dog.  We likely won’t be headed back together, but we don’t have plans, or much information at all for that matter.  All we know now is that our oldest boy, who has been serving a mission for the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints in the Massachusetts Boston area for 7 1/2 months, has relapsed. I can hardly read what I’m typing right now.  His leukemia has returned. It’s hard to believe. I can feel the weight of it all slowly creeping back up my spine to my shoulders.  I don’t actually think clear thoughts about it all very much, it’s more of a blur, a collage of thoughts that just interrupt each other.  When I can control the thoughts it quickly makes me want to sob.  A sob kept under control turns into a shudder that just makes me want to scream. A swallowed scream makes me want to throw up. So... that’s why I haven’t been thinking clearly...on purpose. That’s why I can’t answer the calls yet, or talk on the phone... talking requires me to try to communicate a clear thought.  And somehow publicly sobbing, shuddering, screaming or throwing up isn’t an option. My brains equates that to utter humiliation and won’t let me do it.  The weight gets heavier as things get more real, but it’s a weird weight that is kind of hard to notice just how heavy it is, until it’s gone, until it’s lifted, until you get the words “no evidence of disease” from the doctors.  This time is different though. This time I know the weight, so I can literally feel it on the lower part of my spine.   Maybe that’s why emotions come too easily right now.  The weight isn’t square and balanced on my shoulders quite yet.  But it will get there, back to where I feel a little more control again... at least emotionally. 

   The getting ready to descend chime just rang. I just checked. And we should be on the ground again within the hour.  We pick up the rental car, and drive 30 minutes to the hospital of central Connecticut, or something like that. It’s in New Britain. I’m excited to see my boy. I’ve really missed him. I haven’t slept yet though, and last I looked I had huge bags under my eyes. That makes me a little sad because I wanted to look really nice when I saw him again. This boy is aging me.  The woman across from  me on our first flight was holding her 1 month old baby, her first born.  She’s so filled with excitement and pride. It was fun to see. I vividly remember those flights.  I remember coming home with him from Germany when he was 6wks old. My dad was at the gate to meet us when we arrived. (Back when that was still allowed)  The pride beamed out of me, and was contagious. It beamed out of my dad when he saw us too. And beamed even more when Ricky promptly smiled at meeting his Grampa.  I have carried that excitement and pride for over 19 years now.  And I am still the most blessed person. To have ever walked the earth. I get to see my boy in a few hours. And I get to hug him again. I get to sit with him all day. And this time around, he gets to teach me about the most important things there are.  He gets to teach me what reading the scriptures each day has taught him and how it can bless me too. I didn’t go on a mission. This will be as close to real missionary life that I have ever been.  I am so blessed. I’m excited. I can barely see through the tears, my nose is stuffed and drippy and I kind of want to throw up.  Time to go back to the collage of interrupting thoughts again.   Just caught a glimpse of myself.... good news!!!! The puffy eyes hide the bags!!!! Hahaha!  There must be tissue in one of my coat pockets, cuz I think my mom wore this coat once. Hahaha....yup!! There it is!!! Mom to the rescue from reality yet again!