Locked up and the Key Dropper

Last Thursday I went to hear this woman speak at my church about forgiveness, grace, addiction, faith, doubt, and fear. Nothing too heavy really. She dropped a key, another key to unlock my heart, so I can move directly head on into the fear, which is unfortunately where the miracles happen. I was supposed to go with Melanoma Man. However Butter was in crisis. The crisis was the misplaced worksheet. MM and Butter both told me there was no use looking. They had already done that. There were dried tears and a floor strewn with papers. iMac was getting ready for karate at 6:20. I told MM that one of us needed to stay home with Butter, that he shouldn't be left alone in this emotional state. MM volunteered to stay behind. "Call MK, see if she wants to go," he said. I was hesitant because MK is so nice, and Southern, and just a tad more conservative than I. She has been one of my biggest supporters through thick and thin and in spite of me being a Yankee. I called anyway. MK had to get get her child to band and serve dinner to husband and mother. "No, I don't think I can, but thanks."

Ten minutes passed and I noticed I had a voicemail from MK. YES! She said YES! I saved a seat for her. We listened and nodded and laughed and everything seemed to apply to all of us humans out there, old and young, conservative, and liberal. 

What struck me most was the part about being moved toward what you most fear. It occurred to me that I have been hiding these past few months, locked up in my own heart. Glennon talked about going to church anyway even when in doubt, waiting it out. Seeing that God has been sending invitations all along. It's just a question of my willingness to open the invitation. I think how can I possibly not run from my fear of MM's illness, fear of raising these boys by myself. How will I get out of bed in the morning if I allow it. I realized that this little piece of internet lets me face it, move toward it, stay present for the people who love me and the people I love. So in spite of making myself this visible, and this open to judgement I will carry on.

Yesterday MM, iMac and I went to see an educational specialist. iMac has the same absent, busy, creative, wandering, mind of both his parents. This year that has gotten in his way. He has done the work, although not always following the directions, not always remembering to hand it in. There is no leeway for late work in high school, just another zero. iMac is getting discouraged. After two moms from two different walks of life recommended the same specialist we made an appointment. I thought of talking to MM ahead of time and requesting that he disclose his Cancer diagnosis. Then I scrapped the idea altogether. We would just get in a fight. He would dig in his heels and be angry and that would color his whole impression of the specialist and whether he could help us help imac.

Lots of questions were asked of both of us, such as our age, our high school, and college GPAs, etc. MM said he was sixty six, which is close, off by a year. Later that night we debriefed about the meeting I mentioned to MM that I think he is only 65. MM did the math and said, "Yes you are right." He asked me, do you think I should have told him about the Cancer? I was stunned, but played it cool. "That might be an idea," I said. MM replied, "I will email him about the Cancer." Specialist emailed back quickly, thanking him for this important piece of information about a potentially major stressor in iMac's life.

This morning I met with my Stephen minister at 7 for our usual Saturday morning beach walk. The sun was coming out after five days of gray. I returned home around 8:15. MM was in Butter's room talking about a book they are both reading. Back in the kitchen I asked MM how his morning had been. "Terrible Sarah. Yesterday I forgot how old I am. This morning I couldn't remember the name of the operetta my sixth grade class performed. I think I'm losing my mind again."

"I've been thinking that if I need to have more brain zaps, I want Dr. Rau to do it, even though he is not at Moffitt anymore. We can look him up and go see him in his new practice in Orlando." MM said.

"Yes," I said. I accepted the invitation to show up and be scared and listen and allow him to process the events of the week. I neither directed, nor fled, exhausting. After all that I took a nap. I have a title to maintain, given to me by my family, the Snooze Queen. These titles are not just handed out. You must live into them and so I did.