How To Tell if You’ve Had Enough…
There I sat with the blood pressure cuff on my arm feeling pleasantly surprised that it wasn’t high.
On my right, the markers my daughter had just slammed into my hand after getting frustrated with her project, saying, “Here, keep them for 15 years!”
On the TV, the news coverage of Hurricane Irma.
Directly in front of me, my view of our palm trees blowing in the 25 MPH wind, not even from Irma, but from the nor’easter.
Five simple words repeated like a mantra in my head.
I can’t take much more. I can’t take much more. I can’t take much more.
Not the kind of mantra I prefer, but it remained.
The tears began to flow. The short and sharp breaths joined in.
I can’t take much more. I can’t much more. I can’t take much more.
I thought of my father.
My failures as a mother.
The breaths got longer, deeper.
My eyes closed as I wiped the tears.
The cuff came off.
The markers were released to a hiding place, most likely to emerge before the 15 years is up.
The mantra slowed, faded, remained.
And I won’t.