Today was an absolutely gorgeous day in North Georgia. It was really too hot to play outside, and I was ready for some tough love with myself. I had to get over it. It was time. Bathing suit season. Well, the new suit I bought last month does not fit me now due to some poor choices in late night beverage consumption, and maybe a magic cake or two. Then, the two old suits were too big. So, found one that was less big, and forced my plump tail to go to the indoor pool with the migits this afternoon.
I got into the pool, swam some laps, and realizing that it was just a year ago that I was doing 100 laps in an hour, and within ten minutes, I was tired, bored and now, depressed. So, I hopped over to the migits lane to play around. After pulling my goggles off my face and onto the top of my head, I had to remind Charlie that I had my contacts in, and that he had to be careful. I explained that if I lost a contact in the water, that he would have to drive us home because he was the next oldest. He thought for a short moment, and then said, "No. I drive, we make accident, and we die, and Bro no get fed." Brody is our dog, and Chaz feeds him at night, and Shay does so in the morning. I am so glad that Chaz thought all that through.
So, I asked the next question on my tongue. "Are you afraid to die?" I asked this, as we have been in the process of losing my cousin to terminal cancer. He will be 28 in August, and honestly, he has been to hell and back with this disease. The children are very well aware of the prognosis, and as hard as they pray, they know that we all have a time. I wanted to see how they felt about death, and Shay was not happy about it, and Charlie was more interested in his snot than having a deep and meaningful conversation.
I'm afraid to die. But some part of me, is afraid to leave my family in need. The other part of me, would be ready, if I knew that everyone around me was going to be okay without me around. Special needs child or not, once you have children, you probably always feel that need to be there. I must think pretty highly of myself to think that I am so needed. Well, just tonight, I learned that my husband can not 1. open a can of croissant rolls or 2. know how to unfold and then roll them to bake them. I suppose teaching him how to make grilled cheese a year ago was as far as I could take his kitchen skills. I might need to hang out a little while longer. The marriage counselor is not teaching home economics.
When I do go, I pray that it's not by a tornado, or I'll be pissed. I have been begging for a hole in the ground for years. Just sayin'.