I have never been any good at expressing my emotions. Because anytime I have to write or say anything of emotional importance, I cry. My Grandpa is the cause of this hereditary shortcoming. My mom has it, my sisters have it… in fact, my brother has it. And I have it. So please know that as I type some of the emotionally laden stories onto this blog of mine… that I’m sobbing behind my keyboard.
So, when I visited my friend Michelle several months ago, I found myself listening to her talk. I listened… handicapped from responding for fear of bringing my own emotional hot-mess to the table when she already has enough emotion to deal with on her plate. Michelle has a brain tumor, and is fighting against it every single day. She has two small children to care for, which is a difficult job even for those of us who are tumor-free. That day over fried macaroni and cheese, Michelle let out some of her deepest fears, and I shouldered them for a short period of time. I listened, and offered barely any feedback… because I couldn’t. How would it have been fair for me to become a blubbering mess when she is the one dealing with so much? I couldn’t.
So, I sobbed the whole way home, and I drafted a letter to her as I passed through each stoplight. I sat down when I got home, pounded out the letter, and sent it to her before I could ever have a chance to re-think my emotions… my fears… and my own shortcomings.
Part of that letter read:
“Your life is forever changed. Things will never go back to your definition of normal. A new normal has to be created, and I would love it if I could be a part of your normal. I would love it if you continued to feel comfortable to cry over fried macaroni and cheese with me. I don’t know what I can do to help you… or what you will allow me to do to help you… but I am willing to redefine my normal, as well. I am willing to rearrange my life in order to make sure that you and your family feel as though you belong in our home just as much as you belong in your own.
I don’t know how hard this is on you… and I don’t know if it is going to get harder. But what I do know is that I have two hands. One to hold my babies, and another one to help with yours.”
Michelle came over for a while this morning, and she told me that she’ll be spending some time in Los Angeles this summer in order to get the medical attention she needs. This is going to require some extended stays in LA, and even more medical bills. And we all know that medical bills pile up faster than a toddler’s laundry.
So, in response to my own letter… I am finding a way to help.
This weekend, Mother’s Day weekend, I will be holding open photo shoots for all of my friends who are mothers. The shoot will last 10-20 minutes, and you can donate whatever is in your wallet… whatever you can afford… because, even a dollar can help.
If you’re not already, please friend me on Facebook, follow me on Instagram, or check back to the blog tomorrow for more information!!
