Responsibility

My body aches, my feet feel like my socks are permanently embedded into the bottom of them, my hands feel like they cannot grip another item in this life... and I feel proud. Let's back-track here. For those that are not aware, growing up I was somewhat of a ... how do you say... princess. Yes, I had chores but the minute I was asked to do any of them, the volcano otherwise known as my Irish temper would erupt. Tears flowed like red hot steaming lava as the top of the volcano erupted with the most hateful things to my father. In New York, normally princesses are called "JAP" (AKA Jewish American Princess). As I was not Jewish and my temper was a far cry from a princess... my father renamed me "CAB" (AKA Catholic American Bitch). I swear to you that this is the whole-hearted truth - that was my dad's name for me and I wore that as a badge of honor. There were only two "bitches" in the family and I was deemed "bitch jr." by others in my family (my aunt, father's sister, being Sr.). If ever a person looked at me the wrong way, I would throw a tantrum and express in the most soap opera like voice how my life was then over. No, this truly WAS me.

Fast-forward to my current adult years. I fall in love with a man with a terminal illness, move 900 miles to the middle of cow country, get married, and become the sole support structure for a man who is traveling into his final days on this earth - waiting for a double lung transplant. Abruptly, the CAB was evicted from this body and told in so many words that she is never to return again. Don’t get me wrong, I am still a very strong-minded individual and don't take any "guff" from people who try to do me or my family wrong - but the CAB left promptly - with no farewell party and no well wishes. I will grant you that she did leave with a number of tears - no doubt my flesh went through a traumatic time trying to deal without the liberties I once believe I owned. And today, while staining our 160+ foot cedar fence (both sides done), my body screamed for her to return again. The CAB heard this plea to leave behind the responsibility of the fence and go shopping or something else as meaningless. She came running back and fought greatly to take her position at the head of the table - to demand that this work was too hard and why should she have to do it at all when she wanted the PVC fence that did not need such work. She threw her bag down and was about to walk in the front door when I turned around to see my wonderful husband sitting on the ground and trying to get every nook and cranny covered by the stain/sealer.

Here, a man that has fought for his life and won the battle to live as healthy as any post-transplant patient can for more years than he was originally given, was on the ground and doing the labor that my body was rejecting. The CAB threw out some comments about how he wasn’t in the sun and I was - how I had cleaned up the entire house and he didn’t - etc. etc. It was then that I realized once again how it is not what happens to you in life but how you choose to deal with certain incidents in your life. And, here I was, letting the CAB even set down her bags... but this sight of my husband reminded me of my own strength and how this fence was our responsibility - no matter how tired or deserving I thought I was. And it was that strength that pushed the CAB out the door and continued to encourage my hand to do one more stroke each time I felt more tired... it was that strength... together with my wonderful husband's strength that ultimately helped us finally finish staining that fence.