Friday, December 18, 2015

But what kind of heart doesn't look back?

{things on thursday}

...I used to attend a writing group, hosted at the beautiful home of a sweet woman named Debbie. We would sit at a table in her sun room, overlooking a creek and a lovely bit of treed land. Her coaching and encouragement and friendship inspired my writing, and gave it life at a time when I was having a hard time begin inspired. When my sister had her mastectomy, Debbie brought Marla and Steve a delicious meal. Writers group was something I looked forward to monthly. Today, Debbie lost her newly-married, 30 year old son, Eli. A NJ State Trooper, he was responding to a call when his car veered off the road in the downpours we had all day today. I am thinking of Debbie and her kindness, of how she spoke of raising her boys with love and bemusement, of how gracious she was with her home and heart and I am heartbroken for her. Losing your baby is the most horrific things I can imagine, and it's punctuated by this season that is supposed to be so joyful. I deal in words all the time and I just have none, but to ask you to send up some prayer and love for Debbie, her husband, and sons.

...This week, on the whole, hasn't been a winner. Last weekend was a perfect one, so I had hoped that we could carry some of that spirit over, but Monday came and the magic went poof. On Tuesday, we found out that PJ's ABA therapist quit. In fact, she called out that day- her supervisor and PJ's lead therapist was the one to tell us. After our excruciating experience with our last provider, this was not welcome news. My number one requirement was a dedicated therapist, so we could avoid a revolving door of people providing care for PJ. Thankfully, PJ's lead therapist will take over his care, with just a few minor changes, until another therapist is found. I am angry at the disruption and furious that the therapist took the job knowing she would be leaving within a few months. But, what's done is done and, in all honesty, there was going to be an interruption in PJ's care when we change insurance carriers at the first of the year. It's just sucky.

...On a lighter note, I took a class at the gym today that was so hard, I thought I would have brain damage when I was done. It was called "Body Blast Express" but it should have been called "Kiss Your Kids Goodbye and Say Hello To Your Percocet Addiction" because Oh. Mah. Gawd. I should have known when I walked in and the instructor asked us to get a step, a resistance band, a mat, and hand weights for a one hour class that I was in for a world of hurt. And I say this without a shred of self-deprivation or joking- I was, by far, the fattest in the class. It looked for all the world like someone sent a drunk woman having a heart attack into the Victoria's Secret Fashion Show. The class was far, far above my skill set and I am shocked that I made it out with no further injury, save my rapidly stiffening body. My boobs hurt, guys. My boobs, and I know I can blame that on those mother f*****g planks we did. Needless to say, I will not be attending that class again any time soon.

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