Tuesday, March 6, 2012

Walk it off

This might make me the oldest college student in Manhattan, but my back hurts like a motherfucker. It feels like somebody beat me about the shoulder blades and up and down the spine with a tire iron. It hurts so much that I didn't wear a bra today. By the time I got home tonight I was almost crying. When I walked in and saw Josh I told him, "You're buying us take-out for dinner." His jaw dropped, but he recovered quickly and got out the menu book.

I told Alex about how much pain I was in when telling her about dinner. "Maybe you had sex wrong." Um, no. Thanks for brainstorming for me though. As I went to walk out of her room Al tried again. "Maybe you should take a bath." Tears were in my eyes immediately. "Why'd you say that? That's what Mama would say. How do you even remember that?"

Taking a bath was my mom's go-to solution for everything. If I was upset because my friend played with another girl and left me out, "Go take a bath and then we'll talk about it." If it was winter and my throat hurt? "Go take a bath and then tell me how you feel." Every solution started with a bath. I can't believe I forgot that. It freaks me out because what else have I forgotten? It feel so disloyal to forget anything.

Even though I'm not really sure I believe in heaven, I do believe when I die my mother will be waiting to talk to me. I always picture her standing on the stoop with her hands on her hips. She will sit me down at the table with some food and we'll spend hours and hours going over everything I've said and done my entire life since she's died. There's a ton of anxiety about how each choice I made was justified. I have a lot of anxiety about this, even though I don't really do much about it.

Josh heard us and came into Al and Dani's room to find out what was going on. He claimed it's a really common thing to take a shower so the hot water will help sore muscles. Danielle, always the Queen of Geek, pointed out that you get negative ions from the water that improve your mood, which is probably why our mom always sent me for baths. It got embarrassing - that everyone was trying to help and calm me down and I felt like they were talking to me like I'm stupid. So I walked out to go take a quick shower before dinner.

Josh called after me. "If you don't want to do that, then just be a ... wo-man and walk it off." I'd already spent the whole day trying to walk it off. I took a shower. Still hurts.


uberimma said...

Did you take a couple of Advil? And do you have a heating pad? It helps more than you'd think. Bath is a good idea--warm heat is good.

Anonymous said...

My mom died nearly 17 years ago, and I picture having a long, long talk with her after I die, too. It's funny the things that bring such intense memories of our mothers back to us after so many years. I think your mom will be very proud of the decisions you've made. And I hope your back feels better today.

Kizz said...

On a practical level, if your pain is muscular then heat, especially lovely moist heat like a bath, can help. But take some advil, too.

On an impractical level, I don't know if I believe in heaven either but when I have tough moral decisions to make I worry about what my great grandmother (who died when I was 10) will think while she's watching me. She was a pioneer, like covered wagon, sod hut, almost gave birth in a buggy kind of pioneer. I don't really do much about it but I wonder if she's up there wishing I was doing something differently and not able to tell me.

Lil'Sis said...

I agree on the bath, we have a framed poem in the house about Children, one of the lines, "when they are unhappy, put them in warm water", i.e. a warm bath, it holds true with my kids and I must tell you reading that your mother did this with you it makes me feel like I'm doing a little right with my children...my father died 8 years ago, and I picture very similar to you, the sitting down him feeding me as he always did in life and talking talking talking; I do believe in Heaven, and I picture my father there waiting for me to welcome me home some day.