I was at my bereavement group where the topic was revolving around getting the kids to help out around the house. Rewards vs. punishments were being discussed. I was feeling disinterested in the topic. I wasn’t sure what I was there for, but I knew it wasn’t that. Just when I was feeling as if I was the odd man out, everything shifted.
It was an innocent question, “Tell me about your week.” I squirmed in my seat. It’s not been a good week for me. When I opened my mouth, out came the feelings. I didn’t think that anyone would identify with my issues; none of the women there have teenagers. But my outpouring started an avalanche amongst the group. Tender subjects were broached, and the Kleenex box was circling the room again.
I am amazed at how courageous these women are. It’s funny what you see in others that you have a hard time seeing in yourself.
Back at home, I am feeling that I will be needing a lot of courage as I head into marathon weekend. The suitcases are packed and lined up at the door. The alarm is set for 4:10 am.
I have much to be nervous about. Besides the fact that the Chicago Marathon is just so darn big, my left foot is acting up. Feet don’t fail me now; I’ve invested so much in this plan.