A friend threw me a lifeline. Did me a Solid. Gave me a Hand up. Spoke the truth. Lifted a burden.
When I was falling apart at the seams- she said, "Let me watch him for a while for you. Just go take care of yourself."
And she did. ("He" was NOT really the burden I'd been carrying. This was ALL my baggage.)
Yes. Big. And today. My seams are mended.
"I remember when each of the girls were little, calling Carolyn and screaming and crying telling her I couldn't do it anymore."
"Really? Is that the truth?"
"Oh. YA! It sucked. I thought I'd lost my mind."
"It's not just me? I'm not the only one?"
She laughed. Snorted. And Laughed.
I'm learning. Over and over again. That even though my 'title' has changed, there are still days when my hands are full- to capacity. Sorta like this guy below. And yet, crap keeps getting thrown at ya and you gotta make a choice (usually over and over again):
- Am I gonna let it *all* hang out?
- Am I gonna keep steering this thing?
- Can I catch one of these piles o'crap?
- Who the heck is gonna eat it when I throw it back?