With a Little Help From My Friends

So, my dad is dying.  I think we've covered that.  What I'd instead like to focus on this time is the moments in between the doctor's visits and medication and blood tests.

In the Bible, Ecclesiastes Chapter 3 reminds us that our lives our cyclical; a time to be born a time to die; a time to reap and a time to sow, etc.  For those unfamiliar with the scripture, listen to the Byrds 1965 hit 'Turn! Turn! Turn!'  It's the same general idea and has a catchy tune.

The basic idea here is that we are unable to appreciate joy without suffering.  We must endure suffering, but if we wallow we deprive ourselves of the opportunity to appreciate the the good times.  That's why we need personal relationships.  Shared moments build our reserves to be able to survive the tragedies.

I have several happy memories with my father.  Like the time that my mom decided dad should take my sister and I fishing (why, mom? why?).  She gave us marshmallows for bait.  My mom SWORE that while living in Florida she once caught an alligator using marshmallows for bait.  There are two problems with this scenario.  First, alligators are carnivores.  They don't have an affinity for processed sugar.  Second, when's the last time you saw alligators stocking up on Peeps at Easter?  But Heather and I were too stupid to know better and my dad didn't want to pick a fight with his darling bride, so off we went to a nearby lake with 2 Snoopy fishing rods and a bag of marshmallows in tow.  Let's just say it was not the most productive excursion.  We didn't catch a singe fish.  We did, however, learn that ducks DO know how to laugh and that they can be cruel.  You haven't lived until you've had a duck laugh at you in a malicious way.  We might not have become successful anglers, but we came away with a story that keeps us warm on tenuous nights.

But sometimes you need to distance yourself from the patient.  I can't stress the need to develop a life of your own outside the patient.

I remember a night back in 1997.  My BFF and I had been invited to a party out on the sticks and figured 'Why not?'  You can do those types of things when you're 17.  Long story short, we got lost.  I'm a terrible driver and my 'navigator' has dyslexia so our journey had about the same odds of success as the Titanic .  Before I knew it we were driving on a desolate country road in the middle of farmland.  A dense fog had blanketed the road and surrounding fields.  All I could think at that moment was that this is the road where people die on in horror movies.

Suddenly we hit a bump.  Then another.  It might have been a body.  Then again it might have been a charming woodland creature the Disney had released to Nowheresville Ohio.  Now, I'm typically a very responsible person, but I was NOT about to get out of my car to see what we hit on the Murder Interstate.  That's how the monster's get you.  So we drove on.  We ended up in Lithopolis, Ohio.  Do you know where Lithoplis is?  It's okay if I you don't.  I don't and I'VE BEEN THERE.  There's only one place open in Lithopolis after 9 pm.  It's a pizza and beer joint appropriately named "Pizza & Beer".  The story DOES have a happy ending, though.  We somehow made it home safely and now, whenever one of us finds ourselves scared and lost in the middle of nowhere, we refer to it as 'Bump'.  We made it though the first Bump so I know we'll make it though the next,

You millennials have an extraordinary gift that past generations didn't have.  You have social media.  You get to reconnect with the people you knew years ago and realize they aren't the assholes that you once believed.  You have online dating to expose you to people you'd never meet otherwise.  You have sites like Meet Up to connect with like-minded grownups that can become your new best friends.  So...No more excuses not to leave the house.  Firefly might be having a marathon that night, but lets honest, you've already memorized all the episodes anyway.  And if you leave your house there will be nice people and alcohol to sweeten the deal.

I'm getting up there in years, but I'm not too decrepit to make use of social media.  I've reconnected with a ton of people who I thought (hoped) I would never encounter again after graduation.  Much to my delight, it's been fantastic.  These people support me when the reality of my dad's health is too much for me to accept.  They've also been there when I needed alcohol and karaoke.

After my last post I was overwhelmed (and eternally grateful) with condolences, prayers, support, love and compassion.  Caring for a sick loved one is very isolating,  As much as we want to hide in our homes and lie in a rut of 'what if's' we can't survive that way.

After mom mom's funeral I confessed to our pastor that, while I appreciated those that had come to say goodbye, tomorrow all those people will take their kids to school and go to work and go on with their lives.  She agreed, but she gave me the best advice I could have received.  That's what they're supposed to do.  They are supposed to go back to their lives just like I was supposed to go back to my life.  I could mourn my mother, but I could also cerebrate the life that she gave me.  It took time, but I have chosen the latter.

Now I face a similar battle.  I can mourn my father.  But I can also chose to meet with friends.  I can go out go out drinking and dancing.  I can celebrate birthdays and new jobs.  I can buy pretty clothes just because they bring me joy.  I just know that I can't do it without my friends.

So, my final advice, reach out to your friends.  Talk to them about how you're feeling.  Don't hide it.  It's a part of you.  Let them be there for support but, when they insist on taking you out, GO.  Have fun.  Flirt.  Make new memories.  But,whatever you do, avoid Bump.  That's where the monsters live.

The Great Joy Heist

Greetings, friends.  It’s good to know you’re still around after yesterday’s intense lesson.  Today I thought it prudent to adopt a lighter tone so today we will talk about joy.

There’s an expression we’ve all heard over and over again to ‘Never let anyone steal your joy.’  That is so, so true.  It’s definitely a mantra I have to repeat in my head daily if not hourly.  All too often we plus-size people fall into the trap of letting other people steal our joy.  For example, you could be having the most amazing day at the beach, but let just one teenage douchebag make a “beached whale” comment and the party is over.  Fold up the chairs, grab your towel, we’re out of here. 

But why?  Weren’t you having fun?  Did you build a sand castle?  You can’t leave without building a sand castle!  Sand castles are one of the two funnest architectural structures to create (the other being blanket forts).  Then there are always shells to collect, and waves to play in.  There’s boogie boarding and surfing if you have any shred of balance or agility (which I do not).  So, why are you leaving?  Oh right.  Because the douchebag said you were fat.  The guy that you will never, ever, not in a million years ever see or hear from again.  It reminds me of a lesson that my dad taught me a long time ago about life in general.  He said, “Your success or failure in life will depend on your ability to deal with a**holes.”  When you suffer from low self-esteem, regardless of whether it stems from body issues or something else, it can be very hard to find yourself in a positive situation where you feel happy and fulfilled.  So, for those fleeting moments that you DO feel joy, don’t waste it!  ESPECIALLY on a**holes.

Now, as important as it is to protect your joy and never let anyone steal it, it’s not the whole story.  The crucial part that always gets left off of that life lesson is, ‘Do not expect anyone to create your joy.’  It’s just like how the Declaration of Independence endows the right to the PURSUIT of happiness, not happiness itself.  I missed out on so much of my life sitting in my room waiting for others to come to me.  I waited patiently for someone to invite me to live.  I did manage to do SOME living.  I’ve had slumber parties, went trick-or-treating, visited the beach, even went horseback riding in the Appalachian Mountains.  Those moments of joy are mine to keep forever.  But they were fleeting.  I listen to people talk about their crazy exploits during high school and college and feel like I really missed out.  They all had so much fun together!  They had fun while I waited patiently for someone to invite me to live.

Now I’m a grownup.  The days of impetuousness have passed me by.  Now we all have jobs, spouses, kids, responsibilities.  We schedule in coffee around Little League games and dance recitals.  We promise to have dinner as soon as I’m back from my next business trip.  Most of our conversations end with, “We should get together sometime!”  But then we never do.  We mean to.  We truly want that time to connect.  We might even pencil it in on the calendar.  But then that day rolls around and the dog goes missing, and Mikey comes down with the chicken pox, and your boss needs you to put in some extra hours on the Feldman case.  Next thing you know, that window you created for joy flies away, not to be seen again for another hundred years.  It’s Just. Not. Fair. 

I have a friend who is a relatively new mom.  Her world currently revolves around identifying which part of her baby is leaking fluids and plugging the leak.  Then there’s me.  I have my own child.  He just happens to be 68 and named Dad, but he’s every bit the challenge for me that the infant is for my friend.  Despite the roadblocks, we are making an effort to be there for each other more.  Believe me when I tell you, it feels pretty damn good spending time with her.  Being with girlfriends heals you in a way other relationships won’t.  You feel stronger, prettier, and more capable just because you spent time with them.  So hire a babysitter (or force dad to be alone with the kids for once), call in sick to work, and go see your girlfriend.  Create a moment of joy for yourself and don’t let anyone take it away from you.  Not even yourself.