United We Stand. Divided We Fall.

While teaching a 9:00 a.m. fitness class, one of my regular participants arrived uncharacteristically late. With a wink, I told her to do push-ups as penance. She laughed and explained that she had been late due to listening to the news. A plane had hit the World Trade Center. I decided to turn on the classroom television to see what was happening. Suddenly, we watched together as the events of 9/11/01 unfolded directly in front of our eyes.

Many things were going through my head that morning. Should I get my children out of school? Where is my brother who was a flight attendant? Are my Manhattan friends okay? What the heck is going on??? After my class ended, I walked on the treadmill watching and listening to various news reports trying to understand what was going on. Nobody knew what was going to happen next.

I decided not to alarm my children by taking them out of school early. Instead, I gathered my baby and our belongings from the gym and drove to pick-up my daughter from pre-school. Only after I had my children home, fed, and down for a nap, did I turn on the television to watch the news and make phone calls. I shielded my children as best I could from the horror and mayhem of that day. I discovered my brother was safe and visiting friends in California. My Manhattan friends were traumatized, but okay. And, the pundits were trying their best to make sense out of these tragic events.

What I remember most in the days and months that followed that terrible Tuesday was a feeling of unity. People came together. It didn't matter if they were blue or red, black or white, a fireman or an investment banker. People united. They donated their time, their money, their prayers, and their hearts. We grieved together for the loss of lives. We yearned together for 9/10 - the world as we knew it. In time, band-aids were applied, wounds were healed, and we forged a new normal.

Fast forward 8 years. What happened to that unity?

This past week there was outrage regarding President Obama addressing our children. The outlandish claims and the divisiveness along party lines regarding this issue has struck a chord deep within me. Teachers and parents chose to shield their students (my children!) from a speech about staying in school, respecting your teachers, and doing their best. Empowering children to believe in themselves and encouraging children to achieve their dreams, is one of the best gifts our children and our country can receive. They are our future.

I am respectful of opinions different than my own, and I strive to teach my children that same respect. I encourage them to open their minds and their ears and to make their own informed decisions. Our dinner table conversations and family meeting discussions have included heated debates on religion, politics, and, of course, the distribution of allowance money. No topic is banned and all opinions are safely vetted without fear of retaliation.

On September 12, 2001 as I was unloading groceries in my kitchen I noticed my oldest son playing with 2 boxes of sandwich bags and a small toy car. He took the boxes and put them on end so that they were standing tall. He took the toy car and "flew" it toward the tall boxes. I watched him carefully as he approached the boxes. At the last moment as the car was about to crash into the boxes, he immediately diverted it and allowed it to fly safely around to the other side. Noticing that I had been watching him, he looked up at me and simply said, "Wouldn't that have been great Mommy?". With my lip quivering as I tried to restrain my emotion, I responded, "Yes, Jack, that would have been terrific."

My hope, my wish, my dream, my fervent prayer is that one day our children and our grandchildren and our great-grandchildren will grow and flourish in a world free from hate and discrimination. I have faith in this great country. I believe it should not be segregated with selfishness, but proudly proclaimed as the United States of America.

Back on the wagon

It's time.  I have tried to ignore the repeated calling.  I have tried justifying reasons for not sitting my ass down and doing it.  I have tried to tell myself that doing everything else is more important and maybe everything else is more important.  All that I know is that I NEED to start writing again.  I have been touched with so many amazing experiences recently.  Sharing those experiences in words will be extremely cathartic for me.  

The other day my youngest son, Nick, who is 9 years old walked toward me with his hands behind his back.  It had been "one of those days" where my patience had been pushed to the limit.  Being the empath that he is, he knew just what to do.  

Nick says to me, "Mommy, close your eyes, I have a surprise for you."  I was plowing through our shoe laden and backpack/lunchbox/coat strewn mud room at the time and didn't really appreciate the intrusion.  

He says it again, "Mommy I have something for you that you are really going to like!".  

So, I stopped trying to clear a path and heeded his request.  I stood up, closed my eyes, and waited for my surprise.  

"Okay, open your eyes, Mommy."

And as I did, Nick, releases his hands from behind his back and wraps them around me as tight as he possibly could.  With tears streaming down my face I look at his cherub face and see pure joy shining up at me.  

"It's a hug, Mommy.  I knew you would really like it."

This was one of those moments that will always remain etched in my mind.  My little boy knew just what I needed at just the right time.

Nearly 7 years of his young life has been shared between his father and me.  Our divorce and the strained circumstances surrounding it has necessitated a dual residency.  His father and I have been in and out of court continually over the past 7 years trying to reach an amicable custody agreement.  

My children are the oxygen I need to breath and this custody battle is surrendering me breathless.  If you read my Facebook posts today you will notice that I have been quoting Tom Petty lyrics from the song, "Won't back down".  The reason is because I am being challenged once again to modify our current custody agreement.  

Years ago, when I was going through the initial divorce proceedings, a comment was made about me that became my fuel to press on.  The comment was, "She's too meek.  She won't follow through."  Meek?  "I am not meek" became my mantra, and I was able to start a new life for myself and my children.

Today, "You can stand me up at the gates of hell..... and I won't back down."  

A mother's will to protect her children is fierce.  A mother's need for oxygen is essential.  I am a mother.

"And I'll keep this world from draggin' me down.  Gonna stand my ground.  Won't get turned around.  Well, I know what's right, I got just one life.  In a world that keeps on pushin' me around.  And, I won't back down."

  

say

I am looking forward to going to the theatre this weekend. To sit and watch an entire movie is not easy for me. First, there is the issue of sitting still for 2 hours. Second, there is the issue of staying awake. My body is used to being in constant motion and when it finally stops, I usually crash. So, when I have a choice of going to the theatre or hanging out with my husband or friends, I chose the latter. I would much rather engage in conversation than sit and fall asleep. BUT, this weekend I am foregoing all of my preconceived biases regarding the theatre and have a date with my husband to see the movie The Bucket List. It is about making a list of all of the things you want to do before you kick the bucket.

I was intrigued about it after I saw the music video "Say" by John Mayer http://thebucketlist.warnerbros.com/ . It is the theme song for the movie. The lyrics move me:

Take all your wasted honor
Every little past frustration
Take all your so called problems
Better put 'em in quotations

Walking like a one man army
Fighting with the shadows in your head
Living out the same old moment
Knowing you'd be better off instead
If you could only.....

Have no fear for giving in
Have no fear for giving over
You'd better know that in the end
It's better to say too much
Then never say what you need to say again.

Even if your hands are shaking
And your faith is broken
Even is the eyes are closing
Do it with a heart wide open

Say what you need to say

When Wes and I were dating, he took me on this amazing trip to Aspen, Colorado. I remember the spectacular views from the condo where we stayed, the romantic walks through the city, but my most vivid memories were the conversations by the fire. I asked him a lot of questions trying to get to know him. One question was "What was the best gift you ever received?". He answered that is was a book Brocus Brain by Carl Sagan. His Aunt gave it to him when he was young. He said it changed his life and spurred him onto his career as a scientist. Wes never told her this so I suggested that he write her a letter and share how wildly important her gift was to him.

Say what you need to say.

I know several people who are in broken marriages. Marriages where trust has been questioned and love has been tested. Sometimes saying what you really need to say to your partner is incredibly difficult. Difficult because you are afraid. Difficult because it leaves you vulnerable. Difficult because of the potential consequence. It seems easier just to sweep it under the rug than to expose yourself and your partner to the rawness of reality. I can tell you from experience that the struggle NOT to say what you need to say is far more difficult than actually getting it out there in the open.

Say what you need to say.

I have been abundantly blessed to have met many amazing people who have influenced my own life: teachers, friends, acquaintances, even strangers. Have I told each of them how they have impacted my life? Not yet. But I AM trying. I remember being at a retreat many years ago when I worked for the YMCA. We were asked to write a letter to someone who has made a difference in our life. I did it. I wrote a letter to a friend of mine. I wrote about how she gave me direction and encouragement during a tumultuous time in my life. Did I send it? No. I was too embarrassed. Do I regret not sending it? Yes. (but I did tell her how I felt).

Say what you need to say.

Saying how you feel is not always easy. Doing what you need to do is not always easy.
I try to live my life with no regrets. I try to be the best mother/wife/friend/daughter/personal trainer I possibly can. Have I done everything I want to do? Hell no! Have I said everything I need to say? Hell no! If I kick the bucket tomorrow would I have any true regrets??? Hell NO! Sure there is the laundry list of bad choices and should have, could have, would have's, but I have to admit there isn't anything I truly regret. I believe that even if my path was a little bumpy, the road got me where I needed to be; where I am supposed to be.

I challenge you to take inventory of your own life. Make your own bucket list. Say. Do. Be. Live your life fully. Just like the lyrics in Leeann Womack's song Dance........

I hope you never lose your sense of wonder
You get your fill to eat
But always keep that hunger
May you never take one single breath for granted
God forbid love ever leave you empty handed

I hope you still feel small
When you stand by the ocean
Whenever one door closes, I hope one more opens
Promise me you'll give faith a fighting chance
And when you get the choice to sit it out or dance
I hope you dance

I hope you never fear those mountains in the distance
Never settle for the path of least resistance
Living might mean taking chances
But they're worth taking

Lovin' might be a mistake
But it's worth making
Don't let some hell bent heart
Leave you bitter

When you come close to selling out
Reconsider
Give the heavens above
More than just a passing glance
And when you get the choice to sit it out or dance

I hope you dance(Time is a wheel in constant motion always)
I hope you dance(Rolling us along)
I hope you dance(Tell me who)
I hope you dance(Wants to look back on their years and wonder)(Where those years have gone)

I hope you still feel small
When you stand by the ocean
Whenever one door closes, I hope one more opens
Promise me you'll give faith a fighting chance
And when you get the choice to sit it out or dance
Dance

I hope YOU dance! Life is way too short.

time refined

There is chronological time and there is the absence of time. There is time that you spend watching the clock, waiting or wanting; and then there are moments where time stands still and becomes a part of you. Chronos and Kairos are Greek words for opposing worlds of time. Chronos, in my opinion, is time at its worst. Clocks, blackberries, deadlines, calendars, planners, and appointments are all products of chronos. Kairos, conversely, is time at its best. Making love, watching my children sleep, observing the colors in the sky as the sun rises and sets, sitting on a beach watching my children play in the ocean, writing this blog outside on a gorgeous, summer morning are all my personal examples of kairos.



Sarah Ban Breathnach writes in Simple Abundance (one of my absolute favorite books) "We exist in Chronos. We long for Kairos. That's our duality. Chronos requires speed so that it won't be wasted. Kairos requires space so that it might be savored. We do in Chronos. In Kairos we're allowed to be."


For weeks 3 words have been swirling in my head. Kairos, cancer, and love. I felt a calling to write about each but didn't know how to connect or seperate them. I decided to pray about this and suddenly found myself crying (God's way of saying "That's It!"). He helped me realize that these 3 words -kairos, cancer, love- were all one in the same. Each one is about time at its best.



You may be thinking, "but cancer"? Time at its best????? Yes. Because the moment you don't know where your life is going.......... is the moment your life's journey begins. If you have been reading my blog, you will notice that I have written on occasion about cancer. Not in the medicinal way, but more as a wake up call.


I have been blessed to know many amazing people in my life. Unfortunately, some of these amazing people have been diagnosed with cancer. In my short, 40 years of life (yes, I admit, I am no longer in my 30's) I have lost 2 friends with melanoma (skin cancer), an Aunt to lung cancer, my grandfather to stomach cancer, and just a few short months ago my mother-in-law to multiple myeloma (bone marrow cancer). I have a good friend and an Aunt who beat breast cancer, another good friend who won over ovarian cancer, an uncle who tackled prostate cancer, and an Aunt who is currently fighting lung cancer. I have prayed and cried and sometimes become quite angry upon hearing the news that someone I love has cancer. It is shocking and it invokes fear and questions.... no matter how many times or how many people I know go through it.



A few short days ago, I learned that my Mom has been diagnosed with breast cancer. I have no words to describe how this feels. I guess, the best word is raw. No matter how many times, no matter how many people, no matter how close the friend or family member, .............. there are NO comparisons to hearing the news that the woman who gave you life, the woman you love, the woman who has loved you unconditionally through thick and thin (and I don't mean waist sizes) has cancer.


Love. It is a living, breathing gift that comes in many shapes, strengths, and sizes. A mother's love is the strongest of all. I had no idea I could love anyone as much as I love my children. It was with this knowledge that I finally understood how much my own Mother loves me.


My husband's love has been a tremendous gift to me. He is my best friend, my soul mate, my beacon of light in the darkest of days. He gives me strength when I am weak and comfort when I am worn. It is the kind of love I dreamed about as a little girl. I believe in love, and I believe in the sanctity of marriage. Someone recently told me that he believed my blog was "a platform to promote divorce". Let me say for the record: Yes, I am divorced. No, I don't recommend it. Divorce is a very personal and difficult decision. No one should ever be judged for being loved. No one should ever be judged for being divorced.



Wes and I just celebrated our 2nd wedding anniversary in Annapolis last week. While there, I noticed a boat named Kairos, and it was in that moment that I realized something powerful: my life before Wes was chronos; my life with Wes is all kairos. We each had both got a second chance for a lifetime love.


When Wes's Mom, Mary, passed away, I remarked to Wes's Dad, Dick, that the only good thing I can say about cancer is that it gives you time. It gives you time (another chance) to do the things, you may have put off. It gives you time to say the things, you haven't said. It gives you time to appreciate kairos (time spent being and savoring) and acknowledge chronos (time spent mindlessly doing and existing).



Dick and Mary were the perfect example of what love and marriage should look like. I have never seen 2 people more in love and beautiful in all of my life. Dick was to retire in May 2004. Mary was diagnosed in April 2004. She passed away in January 2007. Their dream had been to travel as soon as Dick retired. And, despite her dialysis 3 times a week, they managed to fit in quite a bit of traveling and being and savoring during those 32 months.



Life cannot be defined; it can only be refined. It is a series of evolution. I don't know who I am yet to be. God does. I have to trust Him to keep me on the right path. All that I do know is that I am the potential of myself. I will keep myself open to the hills and valleys that will continue to bless my life. I am not in control. I don't know the master plan. I do own my life and will take responsibility for my choices. I can choose to view life with a clear lens or choose to be it's "victim". The victim mentality is a plague.


I just finished the Wall Street Journal best seller, Fish, by Stephen Lundin. He says "There is something I know about you that you may not even know about yourself. You have within you more resources of energy than ever been tapped, more talent than has ever been exploited, more to give than you have ever given, and more strength than has ever been tested."


We are each products of life's experiences: the good, the bad, and the ugly. Kairos, cancer, and love. The strongest power in life is to experience emotion. By experiencing emotion, your connection to life (to God) are the moments that create expansion and allow you to grow. These pivotal moments in life can make or break you. Don't let them break you. Let them help to refine you.

my first marathon

I have run 3 marathons in my life. My first was in October of 2000. Pre 9/11, pre-divorce, post giving birth to 3 children in 4 years. I just found a paper copy of what I wrote about that experience and have decided to bring it into the digital age and blog about it.



(written 10/26/2000)
As a young girl I always wondered what it would be like to run a marathon. This year after deciding I wasn't getting younger and I wasn't pregnant for a change, I decided to find out. The following is my story of that journey.



October 20.

Arrive in Baltimore solo. Go to airport to pick up my Mom. Can't find her. I am waiting outside "arrivals". She is waiting outside "baggage". Finally after reaching other via cell phone, we unite. Drive on to hotel. Get lost. My Mom and I argue. She says East is the same thing as North. I say she is crazy. I pull off the road and let her drive. Arrive at hotel and pass out on the bed for several hours.



October 21.

Mom's birthday. Go to packet pick-up and registration. There is a huge expo with a lot of clothes and running equipment. Mom finds the cutest shirt for my children..... on the front "One day I will run like my Mom!" She buys 3. Continue shopping at the Tyson's Corner shopping mall. Ate at one of my favorite places, California Pizza Kitchen. Meet up with my brother, Rich. Back at the hotel we prepare ourselves for the next morning. Rich irons his T-shirt (something I don't really understand), my Mom gets a shower and does her hair (folks, this is the night before), and I draw all over my tank top so that I can get some moral support as I run (Go PSU).



October 22.

Sleeping was a challenge with my brother snoring and knowing that my Mom was worried sick about me. Plus, when I did doze off, I had marathon dreams...... I couldn't find the start of the race; I was lost; no one else was there to run, etc. Around 5am we got up, got dressed (my brother put on his nicely ironed T-shirt), and made it the Marine Monument by 7:30am. Was to meet up with my neighbor Larry (an ex-marine) but couldn't find him. Saw a lot of babies who I thought looked really hungry (bad time to start weaning Nick - 2 days without nursing - Ouch!). Stood in a long, long, long line to go to the bathroom (did I mention how long it was?) and got in the porta-potty just as the morning prayer began over the sound system outside.



The Start of the Race.

There was a sea of people. With over 25,000 runners and 5 times that many spectators, my dream became a reality. I couldn't find the damb starting line! I saw a sign with 6:00 on it so I assumed that this was the starting place for the 6 minute mile people. Thinking this was a good place to be I waited and waited until Rich screamed from the side "These are the 6 HOUR people". I reached the starting line 22 minutes after the official start. This turned out to be a good thing because I was able to fly by people and maintain an 8 minute mile pace over the first few miles.



Miles 1-13.

Enjoyed the gorgeous day and all of the spectators cheering. Drank water at every water stop which was every even mile and sucked on my banana flavored GU (a "delicious" packet of replenishement). Met my Mom and Rich at mile 6 and they slipped me some Gatorade. Georgetown was fun. People on top of cars and hanging out windows playing "Born to Run" by Bruce Springsteen and somewhere along the way I heard the theme song from Rocky. Was to see Rich at mile 10 for more Gatorade but missed him. Apparently he was on the opposite side of the street screaming my name but I never heard him. Enjoyed a couple of marines running with large back packs screaming "Who let the dogs out?" periodically to the following barks of runners. They weaved in and out of orange cones and got cars to beep by saying "Honk if your horny!".



Miles 13 - 23.

Lost track of the marine runners. I would love to know if they finished with the same enthusiasm. The water did its thing and wanted out. I refused to stand in the porta-potty line again so I snuck behind several lovely bushes instead. Bagels were given out at some point as well as Tootsie Rolls. Rich and Mom found me and treated me to half a Twix bar and Gatorade. I reached the halfway point at 2 hours and 8 minutes and felt confident I was going to make it. Struck up a conversation with a young girl who jumped in to do 10 miles with her friends but lost them at a water stop. It is difficult to describe the enormous amount of runners. I was NEVER alone and CONSTANTLY dodging people the entire race. This was good and bad.



Mile 23.

Crossing this never ending bridge, with people dropping like flies, no water to be found and the sun beating down relentlessly is my vivid memory of mile 23. My spirit began to wane and I began to understand "the wall". My knee hurt, my back ached, and I just wanted it to be over.

Mile 24.

As I approached the water stop I heard someone say "Jellybeans!". Sure enough the marine dudes were dispensing cups of jelly beans to all of the runners. Those jellybeans definitely helped.

Mile 25.

I knew there were only 2 miles to go - but that was STILL 2 MORE MILES!. My knee was starting to really hurt. I stopped and started to walk. Shortly thereafter, an angel appeared. It was a young man who tapped me on the shoulder and simply said "Come on. Let's go."...... and I was off and running once again.

Mile 26.

As I saw this mile marker I can't describe how I felt. Joy. Elation. Relief. I felt like I could cry but didn't want to use that much energy. The crowds were unbelievable at this point. My Mom and Rich said they were aftraid to blink - afraid they would miss me. My Mom said she did cry when she saw me. I didn't see them or hear their screams. I just wanted to see that finish line.

.2

If you ever decide to do a marathon, don't forget this little number. Psychologically, I was ready for 26 miles thinking .2 would be a breeze. Let me say this......... that was the longest 385 yards of my life! It was uphill around a turn that never ended with people screaming in your face "It's almost over!". When I finally did see the finish line I picked up my pace and crossed the line, hands in the air.

Post Race.

All I wanted was to find my family. I was handed a medal, water, bananas, yougurt and a blanket. I fought my way through hundreds and hundreds of people and after about 30 minutes of searching I found them and was embraced in a hug I will never forget. It ranked up there with the hug the 3 of us shared when Rich came off his ship after the Persian Gulf War. My only regret of this entire event was that Rich couldn't run with me. We had planned to do it to gether but he blew out his knee

The Drive Home.

After showering and saying good-byes, I embarked on the final leg of my journey - the drive home. Rich drove my Mom back to the airport before going back to his home outside of Baltimore. I followed them until we approached Baltimore. I don't think I could have mentally found my way out of the city without his assistance. I couldn't even do it before I ran a marathon. As I drove home, I got more and more homesick. I just wanted to get home and hug my 3 beautiful children. They called to check on me and fighting back tears I said I was fine but I was really tired. They persuaded me to stop and get a nice meal for energy. Not wanting to even think about carbohydrates, I chose instead a big juicy steak from the Outback. I stumbled into the restaurant the best I could. After sitting for 2 and a half hours, stiffness and pain - comparable to giving birth - greeted me as I got out of the car. Ibuprofen and a lot of Ice Tea (no more water or Gatorade, thank you) and a great meal brought me back to life.

Home.

I arrived to find bouquets of flowers from my friends and family. The house was clean and my children even made me a cake. I heard everyone in the basement so I hobbled quietly down the steps to surprise them. I was then attacked with the best hugs a Mother can only dream about. Mariel wanted to know if I won and ifI brought back any treats for her. Jack wanted to know if I saw the cake and the flowers that he picked. Nick just wanted "breasty milk" and practically knocked me over to get it. He immediately fell asleep in my arms.

Gratitude.

I will always remember the journey it took to achieve my goal. Training throughout the summer was a challenge. With 3 children under the age of 5, finding time to do anything other than cook, clean , and referee is a challenge in itself. I am proud that I have accomplished a lifetime goal, but I couldn't have done it without my family and friends. Their support and encouragement motivated me beyond words. I can honestly say that in the months prior to this race there was not a day that went by that somebody didn't ask, "Hey, when is that marathon?", "I saw you running in the rain the other day - why?", or just "Good luck!".

Motivating and Inspirational Tidbits

I saw many people throughout those 4 hours and 31 minutes. Here are a few that still stand out in my mind:
-A lady my age and her GRANDMOTHER running together.
-The guy on crutches who was determined to finish.
-The couple who were married the day before and the bride wearing her veil as she ran.
-My waiter at the Outback who proudly told me his mother runs the Pittsburgh and New York marathon every year......... at age 63!
-My Mom and Rich scouring the crowd trying to find me after the race. I saw them before they saw me. The looks of nervousness and anticipation on their faces is etched in my memory as well as the looks of relief as I ran into their arms.

And on the T-shirts of several runners I read the following:
- Needed Material for the Christmas Letter
- I can do 26.2
- Whoever said running a marathon is a mind game, never ran a marathon.
- Though Him I can do anything.
- Me + God = 26.2
- In loving memory..... and the photo of the cutest child in the world

I can't believe I wrote this 7 years ago! There were several things I chose not to write about at that time. Like how incredibly unsupportive my (ex) husband was during my training. He would purposely sabotage scheduled runs. He would tell me I was stupid for even trying to do it. And, he refused to bring our children to the watch the race.

I ran this same race, the Marine Corp Marathon, right after I got re-married. Wes not only supported my decision to do another marathon, but he even helped me train. He would ride his bike along side me while I ran. He also drove me, my Mom, and my children to D.C. and was right there at the finish line to congratulate me. If you would like to read my recount of that day, it is posted on my website at http://michelledimidio.com/bymichelle01.htm.

favorite things.....

Right now, I am drinking my coffee and enjoying the brilliant sunshine filling my office. In a few minutes (or as soon as I stop writing) I will go for a run. Later this morning, one of my dearest friends is coming in to town to spend the afternoon with me. Life is good.

GOOD coffee, bright sunshine, running, friends...... these are only a few of my favorite things.

Here a few more:
1. chocolate (any kind)
2. the weight of my husband's hand draped over me as I sleep
3. being serenaded with "mommmmYYYYY!!" as Nick opens his eyes each morning
4. laughing with my friends, laughing with my children, laughing out loud anytime
5. debating with my husband; our hot topic lately.....the book "The Secret" (he thinks it's "dangerous"...... don't even get me started)
6. new running socks
7. GOOD wine shared with friends
8. music, songs, playlists, new artists, lyrics, my ipod..... all of it, very powerful tools for me
9. lillies (I saw beautiful white lillies when I was running on the golf course yesterday)
10. reading (books, magazines (yea, I read People, I admit it), cards, comments from this blog)

Another one of my favorite things is a clean house (which mine is not at the moment) and did I mention my friend was coming today??? I told her I wasn't going to clean for her and I won't, BUT I have to at least clear a path.

I have many more favorite things I would like to write about and I will, but for now......
I gotta run! :-)

Strength

My children and I were invited to go boating in Lake Raystown last weekend. It was a gorgeous day. We were singing, eating, tubing, and laughing. Mariel, my daughter, and I were in the front; my friend was in the middle steering the boat; and Nick and Jack, my 2 sons, were in the back. As we were exiting a wake area and just starting to pick up speed, a sudden wind came through and lifted up the tube (and its rope) crashing the tube into the water.



I didn't see any of that. I only heard Jack scream. What I did see was my baby boy, Nick (okay, he's 8 but STILL my baby) being pulled overboard with the tubing rope. The rope had wrapped around Nick's leg and drug him to the back of the boat. This is when I summoned that super human strength all Mother's possess. You know what I mean, that power that comes out of no where, to do something you never knew you could do, to save your child. I made it from the back of the boat to the front of the boat in a single leap just in time to grab Nick's ankles and pull him back into the boat and onto me.



I assessed the damage. No broken bones, nothing protruding, only a really nasty rope burn across the back of his knee (and spilled homemade meatballs all over the floor of the boat; apparently my flight to get Nick produced this gourmet casualty). I was holding Nick as he cried that "I really am hurt" cry as opposed to the "I need attention" cry. Mariel was helping to gather ice and bandages. And my friend was picking up her delicious, but ruined, meatballs. This is when I saw Jack and this is why I am writing this blog today.



Jack was sitting alone stunned and in shock. I yelled to my friend to hug him. She did. He wrapped his arms tightly around her, dropped his head on her shoulder, and started to cry that "I can't believe what I just saw" kind of cry. Nick looks over and witnesses something very rare: Jack crying. Immediately, and I mean that very moment, Nick stops crying. He finds the strength to stifle his own pain, reach his little hand over toward his big brother, and say "I'm okay Jacky. I'm okay". Jack lifts his head to listen, reaches out his arm, latches onto Nick's hand, and cries a little bit harder. Mariel, my friend, and I were frozen and speechless in a timeless moment that I am sure will remain in our thoughts forever.



Just writing about this, brings back all of the emotions I felt that day. As extremely horrible as that freak accident happened to be, watching my children find strength in each other's arms, empowers me and warms my heart. I remarked to my friend later as we were boating back to shore that nobody can say my children aren't tight. They share a bond that is hermetically sealed. So much so, that I am curious how my boys will react to Mariel having a boyfriend. THAT will be interesting.



I am not saying my children don't fight. I am not in any stretch of the imagination trying to say that my children are perfect. I do want to acknowledge that tough circumstances breed tougher individuals. And, I believe, that their journey through the divorce and its subsequent struggles is molding them to be resilient and strong, beautiful human beings.



In my first blog I wrote about getting "cancer". This incident on the boat reassures me that even though my children haven't lived the fairytale "Leave it to Beaver" type childhood (it's been a bit more like "cancer"), they get "it". And, I am soooooooooooo very proud of them. I gain strength from their strength.



Expressing my inner most thoughts and discussing my personal life is a daunting task for me. I like to write, but question the content and my ability A LOT. As I logged on this morning, I was very, very surprised to read one of the comments in my blog. It touched me deeply and gave me the courage and confidence (and strength) to write again. It was from Jack.

Jack DiMidio said...
I didn't know you could write like that! I don't think I could ever write that well for my life! I think you should write a lot more about your self, but otherwise, it was awesome!!!!!
July 11, 2007 10:03:00 PM EDT