physical bankruptcy

There comes a time in the life cycle to own up to reality, to take measure of truths & denials, strengths & weaknesses. Options must be assessed. Fight the sickness and return to health, take a business risk and beat the odds or throw in the towel and give up. Sometimes the course of nature prevails and we can accept the end with a sense of accomplishment. Or we can say no, this isn’t the end and remember a line from Robert Frost’s The Road Less Taken; “I have miles to go before I sleep.” Regardless of the choice, a decision has to be made.

Let’s face it; the economy sucks, especially in a small tourist town. I’m up against the wall faced with two options. Should I stay or should I go. The company is (and therefore I am) financially stressed beyond belief. Nonetheless, everyday I wake up to the proverbial carrot dangling on the end of the stick. Come on Kel, go get it, you can do it; look out world, here I come. But I’m tired. Weary of the hamster wheel, I have to make a clear decision one way or another. The moment I want to run away bursting with tears, the phone rings with a new lead. The carrot gets bigger or closer; it’s an illusion either way.

I haven’t seen Mom for 10 days so I rode up on the motorcycle for a quick visit yesterday. My soul needed some chicken soup, and the bike, my old friend, was easier to take than the hot stinky car. Plus I needed to think. Nothing like two lanes of asphalt and two wheels to clear the head. Expecting to see her healthy, almost ready to come home, my heart sunk when I first saw her. She’s so weak, and her hands – oh God, the flesh looks horrible. The pain killers slur her speech. She’s out of breath just going to the bathroom. And yes, the hair is thinning. The upbeat tone of my voice denied the downbeat sputter of my spirit. I’m pretty good at faking it as of late…

The paradigm shifts come like collisions now – they’re hard not to notice. I was washing off the road grime and in the mirror I saw the reflection of her struggle with mine. She’s runnin on empty too. She’s tired too. Mom is emotionally strapped and physically liquidated. We talked about her decision to hang on, to keep her eye on the carrot -- she’s got a future grandbaby to hold. A big lump formed in my throat and I’m sure it crawled up from my stomach, the place where your guts are. The decision to keep the faith, to take the risk to fight the fight is upon us both and although we’re deflated, we’re not defeated. Failure is not an option. I’m rich in ways all the money in the world can’t buy; I still have my Mom.