The Mom Chronicle Shorts

And Then There Is Us

January 22, 2020

It’s been a long day. I salivated at the prospect of a scalding bath. Rosewater bath bomb. Epsom salts. And a Korean cleansing mask. The cold chills I’d experienced all day protested my languid dip into the steaming water.

Yeah, I was happy to be warm. Miserable that the muscle pain and the prickling tenderness of my skin benefited nothing. Nil. Nada.

My sinuses went on strike, walls of mucous plugging every avenue. A roadway blocked with construction.

STOP.

DO NOT PASS.

NO ADMITTANCE.

Misery. I am in complete misery. A mouth-breather with lips stretched tight with fever. My peppy, positive, ever-perky fiance tends to me. He brings me lemon-water.

“You gotta stay hydrated!”

How do you mix concern and pep in the same sentence? It’s a mystery. More importantly, how can a person have cold chills and feel like her head is on fire?

“Am I missing coat hangers?” He mumbled, deep inside the closet, “My mind is in a million different places right now.”

I had dragged myself out of the tub, and I was laid up in the bed, a convalescent, possibly down with the flu. Click-clacking away on the keyboard.

“I get it. My brain is in two places, but having a really hard time cause it’s on fire. Hey, that’s a movie.”

He walks out to the call of my mother, returning as he wheels her through the bedroom and to the toilet. Later, he labors over the cast-iron, sauteing salmon and meticulously handcrafted cubes of garlic. Bunches of kale.

He serves me tea with lemon, ginger, and honey. His focus on our recovery. Self-less. Giving. I love him, and I’m mad at him.

I’m angry because I realize I’m helpless. I’m angry because of the reminder that I am not self-sufficient. Damn it. I thought I could handle it all.

But really. I say a silent prayer.

“Thank you for being here, and thank you for the life lesson that I need someone to carry my burden when it’s too heavy.”

He walks in, arms hugging a deep basket of freshly-laundered sundries.

“Hey, where’re you keepin’ your mom’s underwear?”

You see? I’m right. Yep. He’s too good for me, and I’m okay with that.


Honesty. Truth. Authenticity. I want to share my space in the mommy trenches with other moms out there. Words to live by: Be love. Love yourself. Then, love others. Love deeply. Love fully. Love well.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.