It’s much too nice a day to be sick, but I am. The little girls I watch had colds last week…I think they shared. Oh well, that’s life. My remedy: chicken soup, tea, orange juice and my trusty antioxidant, glutathione builder MA+, which apparently let me down, but will, I hope, pull me back up, pillow, blanket, couch, book and laptop. After a day and a half you may wonder, how’s that working out for me? I feel better today, I think. I absolutely have to be better by Friday or I won’t be handling my littlest grand-baby. We’ll see.
I spent my sick days reading lovely stories celebrating moms in a book Adam sent me called MOM (a collection by storycorps) edited by Dave Isay, and read on NPR. Touching , moving, funny, poignant stories by children, siblings, friends, spouses — about moms and being a mom. Some make me melancholy, wishing I had been a mom like that one or this one. Others make me laugh, “At least I never did that!” Still others make me think or sigh, or cry. And at the end of each story I feel like I’ve met new people and come to understand more about human nature — and man, I could have been so much better at this whole mothering thing if I had just read this book way back then.
But you know what? It wouldn’t have made much difference. I wouldn’t have had the perspective on life that I have now. I wouldn’t have heard or comprehended the depth of the messages, the wisdom, the truths that come with years of life experience. I wouldn’t have known my need to know. I wouldn’t have had the compassion to to take these lessons to heart. And that’s the truth. As my dad likes to say, “too soon old, too late smart.” It’s silly, but it’s true. A commercial for L’Oreale hair color said…You’re not getting older, you’re getting better. I hope the commercial was at least half right. I certainly am getting older — I hope I’m getting better.
Which brings me back to… I’m sick, but I’m working on getting better.