Battle Hymn of the Republic

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This day is an object lesson in the relief to be found in facing things head-on.  I went to see my mother who is exactly as one might imagine one would be when learning they need to have a bone biopsy as the pet scan did not reveal anything, and they’re a 21-year breast cancer survivor.  Wary, upset, frustrated, perpetually tense.  Trying to suss out what the doctors could mean without having spoken to them. And yet.  And yet, it was a nice afternoon watching Who Do You Think You Are episodes.  Talking about cucumbers.  Cheering on Elizabeth Warren as she takes Donald Trump to task. Laughing and I spending half a second to think at how the laughter wasn’t strained, wasn’t colored by anything, it was just laughter. There was no talk of personal transformation.  There was no talk of working yourself up to okay.  We were all as okay as we could ever possibly be.  I thought somehow that being there or not being there were equal, but there were hugs that even now make me shiver with the intention in them.  Regardless of anything, it will always be important to me to be there, to radiate out my heart.

Then, we went and bought her the surgical soap that she needed.  I listened as she listened to the nurse explain what she needed to do.  It is less eerie to just think of it in practical terms.  It is manageable steps to take.    Now, I feel, at least, as comfortable as I can with my tiny piece of it.  And then, we just deal with the results when they’re here.  That’s…something.

All this on a day when work lunacy was at its peak and I have to say, sitting here, in this hothouse, at this moment, I couldn’t honestly give one shit.  It is just not a priority in my head.  It ought to be, it ought to be another thing faced head-on and I think I’m getting closer.  All of this back and forth is pushing my head toward just fleeing.  Fleeing to a greener pasture where I can just look after my mother, myself, and not feel like I’ve got boulders crushing me in every direction.

There was a conversation, with a very awkward component including a request not to leave.  I said I hoped I didn’t have to.  And I said that it was financial, not personal, and that’s just where it’s at with me.  And it is.  So.

This, too, has made it a heck of a lot easier to deal with the fact I haven’t heard from you. This sounds pithy, but I think it’s true.  It’s so much easier to relax into the fact that I am focusing on what I need to focus on and whatever happens, will.  I mean, I can only do what I can do and I can only know what I can know.  And life goes on.  It had damn well better.

With a bowl of mango sorbet.

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