For this prompt, I’ve decided just to focus on the good ones. Today, right now, that feels like self-care to me.
Mom, when I was an anxious child, I remember rehearsing with you my rebuttals for any situation about which I was anxious and/or was being teased. I’d come to you with some (usually hypothetical) worry and you’d effortlessly cook up some bulletproof retort for me, just in case, to my horror, a confrontation arose. We’d run the lines over and over and over again until I had it down. But mostly, this was a sort of protective ritual, I realize now. So of course today, while preparing to confront a friend/co-worker (THE friend/co-worker if you’ve been reading my stuff regularly), I said out loud, “Mom, I need you. What do I say?” The talk was postponed, and I’m sad that I don’t have you to rehearse with tonight, to get all the potential rebuttals down.
Daddy, I remember the very first time I sat on the back of a horse. I can’t say “rode” because we remained stationary (you’ll see why in a moment!), but it incredibly thrilling to three-year-old me. I felt SO HIGH up there, but I felt exceedingly secure and confident. You were there by my side. Now, as to why it wasn’t a ride: wellll, we technically jumped to the horse-ride line from the pony-ride line, just for a quick, innocent hijack. I was too little for the horse-ride line, but you knew that’s where I really wanted to be; the pony was okay, but I was horse-obsessed, not pony obsessed. So after I got done with the pony ride, you took advantage of our proximity to the horse and swooped me on its back for just a moment. Just to sit for a few seconds. A guy with his kid in the horse-ride line protested and you said, “Mind your own business, bub!” and then gently set me down on the ground. It was just for a few seconds (you were not a rude guy, you just knew it was our only chance to get me up there). It didn’t really sink in until later, but it was definitely a moment of civil disobedience in service of your horse-loving daughter. I don’t remember the pony or the pony ride, but I’ll never forget sitting up tall on the tall, gentle dapple grey horse for just a few seconds, before we made a run for it. 😉
Writing to Stay Awake 