The truth is, despite my shiny, rule keeping good girl exterior, I am a delinquent at heart, a criminal, a wanna be con. Because every day I’m fighting the law. Every. Single. Day. The law of inertia is no joke, especially when it comes to pitting your will against…your will.
While witnessing this moment of unabashed reverence, I was reminded again how fortunate I’ve been to have a father like my dad, and a mother like my mom. Watching him in the predawn dark, made me think back to all those long ago winter mornings of my youth. It was often still dark when I’d stumble up the stairs from my basement bedroom, weak with sleep, dragging my blanket behind me as I climbed. Predictably, I’d find my dad in his underwear, kneeling in front of the brick fireplace steadily blowing life into the beginning sparks of a new flame.
Sandwiched between his two autistic brothers, Spencer has never had first dibs on pretty much anything. He has assumed, ie been forced into the role of peace maker, negotiator, soother, sacrificer, sympathizer and protector, ands all before he turned four.
The reality of my alleged depression being more headline worthy news than Jake jumping out of the second story science classroom set off warning bells inside my head, leading my 13 year old self to assume depression was something to be ashamed of, something you hide.
Jumping is a verb, and goals achieved and destinations reached often take determined action and should be celebrated.
“You gotta try your luck at least once a day, because you could be going around lucky all day and not even know it.” – […]
He suddenly interrupted my rapid fire questioning by impatiently pressing a spot on my thigh like an elevator button, crying out, “DEACTIVATE mother-mode! I repeat, DEACTIVATE MOTHER MODE! All systems shut-down!! This is not a drill!! Mayday! Mayday!”