Wednesday, August 1, 2012

No Big Deal

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Ok. This is the first time I am publicly admitting to it: I am urgency prone. Now, if you've ever "googled" me, it would be easily apparent. It's been wholly disclosed over and over again in my writings. I've been hit by a car while crossing the road not once but twice (and how many people do you personally know who could say the same thing?) First time: I was hit while walking and wound up unconscious for awhile before waking up in the Er and spending four days in Icu. That was followed by a month in the hospital, months in physical therapy, a concentrate of major surgeries and permanent damage to my right leg (it's almost one inch shorter than my left as a consequent of being crushed to smithereens). Second time: I was hit by a car while biking by a j--k who failed to look before he leapt into the street, hitting me broadside, re-breaking my pelvis and my left shoulder (which required perfect reconstruction and excruciating physical therapy for almost one full year. )

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How is No Big Deal

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I haven't had any major accidents since then, nor have I had many minor ones, except for the very occasional fender benders, the likes of which seem to mess up moms like me, teenage drivers and others who sometimes have other things on their minds. Mind you, I am a low risk driver. Middle-aged (ouch!), right and not-given-to-convertible-sports-cars-due-to-turning-middle-age. But I have so much on my mind these days: the whereabouts of four kids in three different schools, my husband's tour schedule, the dog and guinea pig's supper schedules (Ok, I am kidding; I spend zero time fretting about the guinea pig) and the soon-to-be-remodeled kitchen subcontractor's bidding schedules. Not to mention the state of the economy, the upcoming presidential race, the war in Iraq or stamping out global illiteracy.

As moms, we carry the weight of the world on our shoulders! And that weight, while dragging down our physical beings, wreaks havoc on our brain waves!?!

Just last week, while driving pleasantly sufficient to work (my office is a good 45-minute commute straight through mostly idyllic country two-lane roads) I took my foot off the brake when the light turned green for one teensy second while simultaneously seeing down to convert the radio station (I'd blame this on my daughter's delay in organizing that mysterious iPod I got for Christmas but I don't think that conference would stand up in court) and boom! Metal hit metal as I ran into the backside of the substantial Suv now directly in front of me. Yuck. Out I got, on this rainy, cold Monday morning (the first day back from my birthday celebration in sunny Miami nonetheless) and met the slightly vexed woman Suv-driver-owner. I apologized profusely, told her I took my eye off the wheel for one teensy-weensy second as we stood there, in the rain, considering the damage. A coin-sized bubble messed up her otherwise perfect fender and, after offering my assurance info as well as cost and rehabilitation in full, she smiled and said: "I've done that before. No big deal. Go and have a good day."

I understanding I had left the scene wholly unscathed. understanding I had done zero damage to my own car, until a week later when Nick, who was home from college, commented on my messed-up front fender. I hadn't even noticed......but it was, indeed, noticeably banged up and lopsided.

I had global illiteracy and the state of the economy on my mind.

As I sit at my computer and look at my (somewhat messy) house (and think about my messed-up car), I comprehend what an imperfect world we inhabit...and what an imperfect piece of work I truly am. The guinea pig's bedding is strewn all over the kitchen floor; a sweeping tonight will only certify more mess in the morning. The laundry basket is emptied and clean clothes are lined up in my drawers; tomorrow, dirty socks and tennis clothes will fill up that space. A candlelit supper is enjoyed in our dining room and china has been washed, dried and put back in the cupboard; morning meal will bring other round of dried cereal and milk in bowls that will not quite find their way into the sink.

And so it goes. On and on and on. A relentless stream of accidents and mishaps and messes. And mistakes. Innocently enough, yet inevitable. Life is messy. And motherhood can be even messier. Sticky. Dented.

And would we have it any other way?

As you go straight through these years carrying the weight of the world on your shoulders, I hope that someone--your spouse or your kids or your parents or your best friend--will give you grace. Let you get straight through the messes without being too hard on yourself. (My own husband's reaction to the discovery of my dented fender? Laughter.)

As laundry and dishes and things and puppies and toddlers mess up your days, give them abundance of grace. Sweep or wipe or mop as need be. And try to let it all roll off your shoulders. Try to smile and believe: "No big deal."

And then go and have a good day.

Easier said than done. Yup. Especially when hormones impair our best-intentioned good humor. But we are, after all, in the season of Lent. Reflection is in order. Perspective.

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