You all know I suffer from The Curse. The Curse of the Independent Woman. I don’t need a man, I don’t need a relationship. I don’t need anyone to pay my bills or take care of my home or anything else. I’m like a stubborn toddler with a spoon and a jar of peanut butter…”I do it myself!”
Except I can’t. I am humbly submitting my formal application for help. My Mom made it obvious and didn’t even ask for permission before she stepped in and said she and Dad we’re bringing us dinner. My knee jerk reaction was to say “No, Mom, that’s ok, I’ve got it. I appreciate you thinking of me though…” And then something weird happened, I stopped and thought about it and put myself in their shoes. They have a very independent daughter who can’t really walk very well right now and who is struggling and exhausted. They took a look around my life and asked themselves so very sweetly what they could do to help me, what could they take off my to-do list? Food. They can feed me. That’s how they can show me they love and support me and that’s what they did. It was….in a word…frigging delicious to have food dropped off for me and my daughter. They have continued to bring food a couple of times a week and it’s been such a treat.
My dad even picked up my car and took it to get inspected, as my registration is due. He saw I had a couple of tires that were past their prime and replaced them. Now, I’m a used tire kinda gal, so to have him put two new tires on my car was like being spoiled. He looked so happy when he brought the keys back to me. He was loving on his kid by taking care of something for me and I let him. Is there anything more family than that?
Continuing the family love, I woke up yesterday (Friday) in an intense amount of pain. I’m finding that at the end of the work week I’m really struggling to walk and not stumble from the pain. My daughter was working a shift that made it impossible for her to walk our dogs so I asked my sister if my niece would be able to do it. My neice had plans on a Friday night (of course she did, she’s 18 and has a life) so my sister stepped up without missing a beat and said “I’ll do it!” so I let her. She showed up and one dog was happily eager to go on a walk with her and did what she was supposed to do without a fuss. The little dog, however, my Chewy was not a fan. He barked and rejected treats she tried to give him and refused to walk past the front area of our apartment. He peed and then said, full Cartman from Southpark style “Screw you, I’m going home” and that was that. It was fine though. She made me promise to ask her to walk them whenever I need it and I agreed.
Wow. Allowing people to love me though difficult stuff is hard but at the end of the day it’s what people who love you do. I tell people in my life who are struggling and resisting help that their loved one’s are showing them how much they love them by helping where they can. I’ve told countless people “Let them love you.” Look at me, following my own advice.
So today I’ve ordered groceries – shout out to HEB for having Curbside Grocery Pickup! I’ve asked my Dad to pick them up and deliver them to me. What a blessing he has been though this. My daughter works a later shift so she can walk the dogs for me this afternoon so this is me, chilling from my bed, drinking a cup of coffee and reclining with an ice pack on my lower back and hip. We’re still more than a month away from surgery and I’m figuring out the new limits my body has for me. I’m learning to listen to my body and respect its wishes.
TC (my Twitter Crush) pondered why I’m being asked to wait so long for surgery – my surgeon warned me that hip replacements take a long time to schedule so I was prepared for the wait. My response to him was “maybe I’m supposed to learn something during this wait time.” Perhaps what I’m meant to learn is to lean on other people and let them love me the way I love them. Is that what I’m meant to learn? If so, I’m getting a crash course in it and it’s getting easier every time, every task, every ask.
By the way my TC is healing from his very own surgical procedure so our text conversations are pretty funny, filled with “how are you feeling” and “Did you eat something with your pain medication?” and “What are you watching?”. It sucks getting older, kids. If I did my calendar math right (I probably didn’t because anyone who knows me knows that the maffs is hard for me) we should be doing our Physical Therapy around the same time. It’s kind of strangely bonding. It’s nice to have someone empathize with you, even if they are over a thousand away. It’s simply nice to have friends that you know genuinely care about you.
Anywho…lessons. Letting people love me, accepting acts of service and not feeling like a weak pile of guilty goo for it. It’s the name of the game right now. I’m finding my way though it.