3 Lessons From 3 Months of Illness
For a shy Facebooker such as myself, this is a lot to put out there. But now that I’m nearing the end of my 3 month adventure with viral meningitis, I feel compelled to share what I have learned from the experience:
1. LESSON #1: I have the most spectacularly wonderful friends and family.
This is going to sound like an Oscar’s speech, but it has to be said: Eternal gratitude to dear, loyal Heidi, and to Shannon, Rob, Kim, Lisa, Tim, and anyone I may have left off the list, for cooking for my kids, cleaning my house, bringing me home cooked meals, taking my kids to school, buying me groceries, and keeping me in merry company, not just for a week or two, but consistently and cheerfully for a full 3 months. Huge thanks to Rich, Matt, Scott and Sarah for entertaining my kids and getting them out of the house when I could not, and for hanging out with me even when I know I wasn’t any fun. And to my faraway sisters Tarn and Tori for gamely entertaining my multiple queries (in the affirmative) about whether I would ever get better, and for always, always making me laugh. And of course to my colleagues at work who had to pick up an awful lot of slack in my absence. And to the Academy.
2. LESSON #2: My kids don’t need SuperMom…they need me.
My kids are just as delighted (probably more so) with Jell-o and whipped cream for Valentine’s Day as they are with my usual 4-layer, ganache-filled, heart-shaped cake extravaganza. They are just as happy (probably more so) hanging out on the couch explaining Minecraft to me as they are with an elaborately planned weekend getaway adventure. I believe that my children, so naturally gifted in the art of living simply and joyfully in the now, have been gently calling upon me, their mom, to stop running furiously toward the unattainable goal of “keeping it all together” and to join them in the present moment. Boys, I accept your invitation with gratitude and joyful anticipation.
3. LESSON #3: I can…and must…slow down if I am to be of any use to anyone.
Turns out, if dishes are piled up in the sink, and Legos are scattered across the floor, and I don’t manage to fit in a hearty session of strength training and sprints before the kids get out of bed…well…nothing. Nothing happens. No impact…on anything that matters. I’ve been striving so hard for a misguided vision of perfection that it made me sick. So what will I reach for now? What is my new measure of success? If I can shrug in earnest at the dishes in the sink; if I can relish those sharp, colorful evidences my kids’ creativity dotting the landscape of the floor; if I can give myself the gift of an extra hour of sleep; if I can slow down, take the pressure off, forgive myself…that will be success I can celebrate.