A Case of the Mondays
In my other life, I called them punch-in-the-face-Mondays. A brutal but invigorating work day filled with back to back meetings and non-stop communicating until I picked Eli from pre-school up at 2, ran him home, put on a show, worked for 45 minutes, picked up Stella at 3, ran her home, snacks and back to work while they did homework and played with the cul-de-sac kids until I could get off my computer or my phone. Usually in time to panic about what we would do for dinner (eat out).
My new Mondays were...not so punch in the face. But when the pendulum swings so far the other direction, sometimes you feel like you are on the pendulum and you just might throw up. I organize my week. I run errands. What is this even!
I had time to help my mom with keeping the other grandkids. And to take my grandmother, Nana, for a massage because she was in a lot of pain. I told her I would be to her apartment at noon and when I pulled into the parking lot at two minutes til, she was standing at the curb waiting for me because their generation is mindful of others and their time in a way we are not.
She struggled into the car and commented about the glorious weather. We agreed; it was the perfect day. We turned left out of her apartment complex when she said she felt bad about her weight, about herself. I ask her to clarify; herself or her weight. Both she said. Both. Her friends from Phoenix had invited her home for a party but she was afraid to go because of the way she looked. She was 85 years old and afraid her friends would think she was too fat.
A quick side note for all my lady friends out there - What in the actual Hell. I want to look good too; I do, and especially for a special occasion like a trip to see old friends. I want my roots done and my lashes on and I want my best jeans to be clean. And if all is right, I would like to have a tan. So I get this feeling. I am not above it. I am beside it; no - I am in it. But I thought by 85 I’d be over it. And apparently that’s not true. I’m feeling sad about that. Can we agree when we are wearing diapers again we will go back to the mindset that a little round is just right like when we wore diapers for the first time as babies and everyone loved our rolls and our “healthy middles” made our mamas proud because that meant we were well fed and she was doing a good job??
What is important here was that my 85 year old grandmother was crying in my truck because she felt unhappy about herself and her life. I sensed that she did not know where to look for Hope in this last chapter of life. And right there in that tiny insignificant Monday, God extended me a small grace, the gift of with my Nana.
I began to realize I didn’t have to save God’s gifts or the good words for the right moments or wonder if I would ever get to exercise them with the right people or in an office or on a stage or even at my church. Our families are the right people, and our homes and neighborhoods the most important places we can be sharing our crumbs of goodness, spreading our little acts of kindness.