Today I took a magical walk with a sea otter.
I was out on the seawall in the a light spring rain thinking about my mother. Contemplating what was going to happen to her.
I’d just visited her a few days prior and knew in my heart she was not long for this world.
My son and I had gone to see her in the care facility she was living. We were shocked by the rapid decline she’d made since our last visit.
Her face looked gaunt and hollow. Her body frail and weak. Her skin ever so pale and delicate. Deep down some part of me knew that she was finally giving up the fight.
A girlfriend of mine recently said something that gave me pause. That perhaps I hadn’t yet found a man worthy of me.
Worthy of me?
What a concept! It seems so basic. Yet I realized as soon as she said it that I’ve actually had it backwards all my life.
I’ve been trying to prove to men that I am worthy of them.
I’ve worked so hard to show them that I’m good, kind, smart, and capable.
And even more, that I’m not too needy, too emotional, or lord help me, too dependent! For fear they would run in the opposite direction.
Ugh. Seriously?! Wtf is up with that?