P.S. The picture that got made fun of the most was the one of my head tilting down. The wisecrackers were saying how pretty my forehead was. Do you think my forehead is pretty? Just kidding...
This past weekend my family and I went skiing in Tahoe. Since it was our first time back on the slopes, we were basically beginners again. Well, at least with me I can say I suck. That’s not being modest. It’s honesty. I crashed a few times to completely injured my right shoulder and gave myself a concussion. On the way home, I thought I needed to visit a doctor to get a sling. I could not abduct my arm. It was painful to move. I ate Advil like it was candy.
The next morning when I awoke, I could not sit up. Every limb on my body hurts. I was in bad shape. My head was pounding. There was a black bruise on my right shoulder as a badge of shame. I slammed down so hard on the easiest slope that I landed face down impounded in the snow. That wasn’t even my fault. A guy skied by me and we nearly collided. He escaped while I laid still. A little kid came by to see if I needed help. I finally gathered my thoughts and got up.
I decided to stay in bed. When I did get up, I crouched over like an old lady. My 6 y.o was so worried he asked if he could give me his healing powers. I welcomed it and he placed his hand on my shoulder forcing the pain to go away. My 4 y.o gave me his magic kisses to make me happy again. They stayed in bed with me most of the day. By evening I was still in pain. I almost called in sick for work. But alas, I took some more Advil and prayed for the best.
Monday came and I was still slow but functioning. My office took pity on me and moved things for me. I barely moved. It was very sweet of my girls to do most of the work for me. By Monday night, my youngest sat with me on my bed for our nightly routine of reading a few books together. Then all of a sudden, he said he didn’t want me to die. I was so surprised. I asked him why he would say that.
Son: Because bad guys are going to hurt you. I’m gonna protect you. I’m going to listen better in kung fu and kill the bad guys.
Me (being me): How would you feel if I’m gone?
Son: I’m going to be sad.
Me: What else?
Son: I’m going to cry. (A moment later) My little heart will be sad.
Me: Oh. I’m going to be sad, too. I’m going to miss you.
Son: I’m going to miss you because I won’t have a mommy anymore.
Me (being me): Maybe your Baba will marry again and give you another mommy.
At this moment, my husband entered the room and sat next to him. Then our son turned to him and said, “Baba, you have to marry mommy so we can protect her.”
Husband: What else should we do to protect mommy?
Son: We need to keep her in the house and lock the doors so bad guys can’t come in.
Me: Okay, that’s enough! I’m gonna go crazy if you keep me in the house.
I realized he was so worried about my injuries that he was afraid he might lose me. I wasn’t milking it but I wasn’t elaborating on my pain either. It was what it was. Nevertheless I thought I have to fake being better so he doesn’t worry. It was so touching to see that my physical injuries were such heartache for him. Little does he know that when he’s older, his love for his wife will cause me some heartache. For as long as I can, I am going to milk his love for me to the max at every single possible chance.
Tuesday morning at 6am, he said, “Good morning! Mommy, are you better?”
Me: Yes, much better (as I just crawled back into bed). Thank you for asking.
Son: Mommy, I’m not going to climb on you anymore.
Me: Okay, thank you. But you can climb on me later when I’m better.
Son: Okay. Bye. (He ran off to read in his sister's room. Yes, they're up by 6am.)
Such a silly kid. But just a postscript, miraculously on Sunday night, my right shoulder was able to move freely again. I told my son his healing powers worked. Now if he could heal my concussion…