The Business of Strangers

During one of my visits to the doctor, I was awarded with the paperwork to get a handicap placard for my jeep.  Because I was having a hard time wrapping my brain around ME needing that stupid handicap sign, I hung on to the paperwork and didn't do a dang thing about it.

The snow came and brought different challenges. I decided that I had better get the placard and keep it on hand in case I needed it. I had ABSOLUTELY NO intention of hanging it in my jeep. No way. No way. NO WAY.

I hung it up in my jeep.

I use it when only absolutely necessary. On sunny days, I park as far from the door as possible. I'm terrified of the day when I can't walk, so of course I over compensate and walk as long and far as I can. However, I find it difficult to maneuver in the rain and snow. Those are the days that I dig into my console (and my pride) and hang the placard on my mirror for the world to see.

The other day I went to grab some groceries. I try really hard to keep the staples of the Deason kitchen stocked because I HATE grocery shopping and avoid it until there is absolutely NOTHING in the house to eat.

One of our local grocery stores had a case lot sale, so off I went to get veggies and soup to put in the storage room.

Since I knew I would be wrangling a cart with a few cases of food and I had a vision of the cart getting away from me and zooming toward a small child and onlookers screaming at me to "RUN, GET THE CART" and me moving as fast as my wobbly legs will go and yelling back "I AM running",  I decided to park in the handicap parking.

This is where this story begins.

I made it through the grocery store without incident and was heading back to my jeep when I spotted a couple standing right beside my door.  I didn't recognize them, so I didn't give it much thought. I was making mental preparations to load the groceries when the woman began yelling. At first, I was taken aback and glanced around to see who she was hollering at when the realization hit that she was railing at ME. I began to hear bits and pieces about "parking in the handicap parking when I don't need it". She let me have her mind and wasn't too nice about it. I heard something to the effect of "lazy" and "stealing my poor mothers handicap sticker" and "Look at me. I'm old and I park WAY back there to keep the spaces open for people that REALLY need it" and blah, blah, blah.

I unloaded the groceries from my cart without saying a word. Trust me. I had visions of tackling her and punching her square in her mouth and messing up her perfectly coiffed hair and pulling her perfectly manicured fingernails out with pliers and gluing her fake eyelashes closed with super glue. I didn't. I simply said "For some reason, my doctor thinks that having a brain disease constitutes owning a handicap placard. I will be glad to give you her number if you would like to talk to her about it." She looked at me blankly. Her mouth was still flapping but no words were coming out.

I excused myself, got in the jeep and drove away.

I made it to the edge of the parking lot and called Mark. Sobbing.

I was and still AM disgusted about the entire situation.

A few years back I read or heard a story about a man and his children in a restaurant having a bite to eat. I don't remember if the kids were disorderly or disruptive or if a fellow diner was simply bratty.  However it came to be, the man was confronted about his children.

His response? "I'm so sorry. The kids were just at the hospital and had to say goodbye to their mother. She just died today, and I'm a bit distracted."

I learned a LONG TIME ago that everyone has a story. We are all going through some kind of muck.  I get aggravated to hear the words "I wouldn't do that" or "She should..." or "I would..."  or "Why didn't they..." Whatever. Maybe we're all just doing the best we can with the tools that we have.

"Walk a mile in my moccasins and 

you will know my journey"

My Deepest Fear

When Keith passed away I spoke at his funeral. I've always related to the movie Coach Carter. Every single time I watch it, I think of some of my boys' friends. You know. The ones that are superstars and they refuse to be that because life got in the way of their self esteem. I had an opportunity to tell these kids that they were "better than that". It just happened to come at a time that I was facing one of my greatest losses.

The funeral was planned, clothes were washed and readied and I needed to condense a lifetime of cherished memories and moments and put them on paper in just a few words. Throughout the "funeral planning" process, my thoughts had wandered to Coach Carter and the quote that he was determined to ingrain in a wayward boy. Throughout the movie, a young man became the focus of Coach Carters' question "Son, what is your deepest fear?" Timo would simply stare back while shaking his head in wonderment as if to say "this man is CRAZY. What the crap is he talking about?". As the crowning point of the movie approaches, the viewer witnesses the young man stand and say:

Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our light, not our darkness, that most frightens us. Your playing small doesn't serve the world. There's nothing enlightened about shrinking so that other people won't feel insecure around you. We are all meant to shine just as children do. It's not just in some of us;  it's in everyone. And as we let our own light shine, we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same. As we are liberated from our own fear, our presence automatically liberates others.

This quote had turned over and over in my head throughout the week, so when the time came to write my tribute, I dug out the movie, found the quote, paused and typed, paused and typed until I had it exactly as it was said in the movie.

I don't know if what I said made any kind of an impact. I said what I wanted to say. And I'm glad I did.

I still think about this quote. I relate to the part that says "It is our light not our darkness, that most frightens us."

I think that I need to find my light. I need to shine through the darkest reaches of my life and enlighten them. I think that it is important that I bring my demons into light and never be afraid of them again.

According to the world dictionary, liberate is to set free, as from imprisonment or bondage. I am not sure I ever viewed the "getting in my own way" as bondage, but recent circumstances have shed a new light on that for me. And I find that word spot on. It IS bondage to be in your own way. I refuse to be in darkness any longer. I will purge myself of insecurity and insignificance. No boss, family member, "friend" or foe will be able to convince me ANY LONGER that I am inadequate.