Friday, July 23, 2010

D Day Minus 187 (September 2, 2009): You Get What You Give

“I’m going down to the basement to do yoga.” I said after a long day of work. In fact, it was extra long because Dad and I were trying to get caught up so we could go down to Bassett for a long Labor Day weekend.  Of course, I’d beaten Dad home because he was dealing with the crisis du jour.  You’d eaten a late lunch at Wegmans and were waiting to go pick up something to eat with Katie.  So dinner was catch- as-catch-can. 

You sat in your black leather office chair at attention like the letter L.  Even the way you held the mouse looked like the letter L.   Hall and Oates, No Can Do, was playing just loud enough to be annoying.
 “I have a date with Bryan Kest.  Don’t tell Dad.”  You didn’t respond.  Instead you mumbled something about the date of a check and direct deposit as you updated the register in Quicken.

 I shook my head, muttering, “So much for making a funny,” on my way downstairs.
“Mom.”  You yelled, just as I rolled out my yoga mat in the basement.

“What?” I yelled back.  I only heard half of what you said.  I rolled my eyes and stomped back up the stairs to your office complaining (under my breath) about never finding my inner peace and tranquility at this rate.
“Work was good.” You said like it was news to me.  You’d already told me that during my earlier inquisition of how your day was. 

“Listen to this.” You said. The Pointer Sisters, “He So Shy,” blared out of your tinny sounding computer speakers.   “Yeah, this was playing in the background at work today.” You smiled. “Remember when.”

I interrupted you. “You thought they were singing Please Don’t Shine and you had me looking all over for the song.” We laughed as we remembered when the song came on the radio and you said that was the song.  I wouldn’t have ever figured out the mystery if it wouldn’t have been on the radio.

“So work was good.” I said, smiling at the déjà vu of the conversation of an hour ago.  But it really wasn’t the same this time. Early our conversation was cogent and perfunctory.  This time you had diarrhea of the mouth. I guess balancing your checkbook or whatever you did between then and now made you relax.

“Everyone that I work with is awesome.” You said. “They couldn’t believe I looked so good.  I told them everything was fine and I expected good news next week at MD Anderson when I get scanned.  I don’t think they really believe I have cancer.  Or that they’ve never seen someone so positive with cancer.”

I planted myself on the floor and just let your mouth run  You hoped others would learn by your actions and knew great things were in your future. We talked about inspiring awesomeness and how this journey was teaching you (and me) to be a better person.  About a half an hour later, Katie called and you two made your plans.

I went back downstairs to yoga, not to find my inner peace and tranquility like earlier.  I’d just found that with you.

As my date, Bryan yammered for the umpteenth time about not doing nose breathing, my mind flashed with awareness.  Were you inspiring us or were we inspiring you? 

“You get what you give,” kept repeating in my mind until I finished my prayer twists on both sides.  I was in the zone until Bryan ended our practice with Namaste.   Then the thought started up again, “You get what you give." And it stayed with me for the rest of the night. 

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