My Safety Net

I am truly a fortunate soul. I've realized that in a new way the last couple of days. I think sometimes we get so caught up in the demands and challenges and ordinary pursuits of life that we forget what really matters. Many people go through their entire life that way and only wake up to the fact at the end -- if at all. I am among the lucky ones; Mark's illness has stripped me of so many external things (financial security, career pursuits, the hunt for something bigger/better). I've been driven to a point where I have two options: I can curl up in a corner and become a bitter, stagnated lump, or I can cultivate that which is eternal -- friendship and love. If I had to chose between what I have now (even with all the challenges included) and a life of wealth and career opportunity without genuine friendship, I would choose the former, without a microsecond of hesitation. Let me tell you about the last couple of days, and you will see why.

Yesterday I went to my dear friend Andrea's house. She already had six kids there: two of her own and four that were "borrowed." I added another. It was chaos, but a good kind of chaos, the kind that makes you feel like the life is bustling at your feet. After awhile we decided to take them to the park. It took us half of forever to get them all out the door. They all had to go potty and find shoes and jackets. We had to arrange car seats and lunch. It was quite the endeavor. And when we finally got there, the kids took off in several different directions, and we spent a good ninety percent of the time chasing them down. I would be surprised if Andrea and I exchanged more than a half dozen sentences that contained anything of substance the whole morning, but one of those sentences was, "I'm so glad you came over today." I also know that some day (sooner than we'd like to think) the kids will be grown and gone. Andrea and I will sit with our coffee in our quiet house and reminisce about those crazy days, and we will be partly so glad that those days are over and partly sorry that they are gone. In the meantime, there is such reassurance in being able to reach out to a kindred spirit in the middle of the chaos and say simply, "I'm so glad you're in this with me."

Today I was granted several more reminders of this sisterly camaraderie in my life. The first was from my actual biological sister, Becca. She called to tell me that she had activated my support system for me. She has set things rolling so that I have people in place to provide meals two evenings a week and to be on call for child care four days a week. One person has even volunteered to take a 24 hour shift once a month so that I can get away for some respite. I don't even know how to thank her. My heart is just so overflowing that it defies being put into words.

And then, in the midst of all this, I had an email exchange, back and forth several times, with a woman who is quickly becoming a dear friend. We chatted about the weather. (I laughed out loud when she told me it was snowing again and added, "I can't believe people pay good money to play in this muck.") We talked about her cat and her bread making endeavors. We talked about illness and pain, about feeling swallowed up by the needs of your family. She sent me links to poetry websites and a picture of herself in a darling pink hat. I sent her pictures of my kids in the snow. It was a simple thing, just an exchange of words and images, but it was so much more than that. It was friendship. It was her saying to me and me saying back to her, "I'm so glad you're here with me."

As if that weren't enough, I got a phone call at nearly three o'clock from Amy, who was having a party and had forgotten to get out the invitations. "It's at seven o'clock. Can you come?" Four hours from then? I was dressed in my duds, cleaning house and taking care of kids, but Mark was feeling relatively well yesterday (yea!) and I thought, "Why not?" So after dinner I put on a nice sweater and some earrings and some fresh makeup and set out. I have to tell you ... I lost track of time. I was having such a great time, sipping my red wine and eating the most scrumptious chocolate cake and talking (and talking and talking) with Cynthia that when I looked up, it was suddenly nine o'clock, and I knew I needed to get home. When I said good-bye and walked out the door, I felt lighter than I have felt in a long, long time.

I feel like a tightrope walker these days, but lately I have realized an important fact. Between me and the hard floor of the circus dome, there is a net, constructed of the clasped hands of my friends and loved ones. I may teeter in this challenging balancing act. I may even fall and have to climb up and start again. But I will never hit the ground with this net between me and the floor. And truly ... what more could one ask for in life?