What a pain in the neck!

I winced Monday morning while lifting my head from the pillow. Assuming I'd slept in a funky position, I ignored the pain and changed into gym clothes. I also figured, being in my late forties, a body part may occasionally creak and crack. No biggie, right?
 

After a brief workout, I watered this white orchid. Zoe had surprised me with it last week.
 

"What's this for honey?" I asked.

She grinned. "I know you're a bit sad that Todd left. And I'm leaving soon, too. I thought it would make you smile."

I hugged her, reflecting on how much both kids have blossomed and bonded this summer. Zoe headed to tennis. I headed to the back of our house. Then I discovered stinky, soaked towels in the washing machine. Terrific. We had at least three heaping piles of dirty laundry. And a broken washer.
 

I tried to turn left. I tried to turn right. My neck was stuck. Literally. By the time the sun set, I couldn't move my head in any direction. And I needed to finish packing. Zoe starts school this week, and we were flying with her. I figured Advil and an Epsom salt bath would assuage the pain.
 

I was wrong.

This photo (below) is from earlier in the week. As we soaked our feet in the warm, bubbly water, I held Zoe’s hand for a moment and swallowed hard. It is her senior year, which is utterly unreal. I’m excited for my daughter to start this milestone in high school. I can’t wait to decorate Zoe's dorm room with her. And I'm especially looking forward to witnessing her joy as she reunites with friends. Knowing these months will be filled with lifetime memories and epic growth.

It’s hard to let go. Accepting what is (and is not) hurts like hell. I realize if I resist rather than surrender, these spasms won’t quit. But the problem is I don’t quit either.  I’m voice texting this story today and checking for salacious typos (I swear Siri has a dirty mind!).

So my husband and daughter left Thursday. I stayed home. Alone. Doesn’t that sound like a mother’s dream? Total solitude and serenity. Instead, I feel sad and frustrated. Yet also grateful for FaceTime, joyful seeing my husband and daughter together. It’s only been a day; they’ve already assembled a bed along with an arsenal of stories. 

And guess what? I can move my neck. Much of the pain is gone. My back is still being stubborn—or perhaps it is me?

My body was a pincushion after multiple acupuncture sessions. It looks like a toddler dotted yellow highlighters in the strangest spots. Just like these bruises, I’m healing parts of myself that I didn’t even know needed to be nursed and nurtured.

I said yes to friends who offered help. I succumbed to sitting still. I trusted that my body knew I needed to pause long before my psyche did. And I finally said yes to me.