The other day at the park, another mom and I were talking about our kids. Shocking, I know. At least we weren't talking about our kids and poop. If you don't have kids, you'll be shocked at how much you'll be talking about poop once you have 'em. Something about motherhood triggers a need to discuss poop.
But this post isn't about poop, rather it's about perspective.
As my friend and I were talking, I mentioned we were heading down to the DC area while flyboy is off doing what the Marine Corps pays him to do. We would be down visiting my parents but also checking in with dash-1's allergist at Walter Reed. She alluded to that being a very depressing, awkward place to take a child. Actually, she didn't allude to it, she said it outright.
Now that the kids are older and we are moving in an almost entirely civilian circle, I'm hearing that all the time. And I couldn't disagree more.
Dash-1 calls it a "superhero hospital" and well, I think that's a fine way to think about it. Without a doubt, that hospital is filled with people enduring a helluva lotta pain and uphill battles. Yet it's filled with people who have stepped up, who have volunteered for the mission and who are taking what has been handed to them, one day and one step at a time.
Whenever dash-1 and I make our way out to Walter Reed, my mind is always elsewhere. Dash-1 has figured out where we are going and what's going to happen, and is usually not very happy (nor silent) about it. I'm thinking about blood tests, skin pricks, paperwork we need for school, how his levels are, if he's gaining weight and those kinds of motherly thoughts.
However whenever we leave, in the quiet of the car, as he's occupied with his DS or a movie, I always seem to find a perspective that is sorely needed.
I'm just grateful.
For all the BS and frustration that the military can dole out, and as we all know, they can dole it out.... I am thankful for all we have. If a soldier can learn to walk again after having his leg amputated, then I can surely handle whatever the Marine Corps is tossing at us.
As I was driving down the turnpike I remembered that I had written a post following a trip to Walter Reed about what I was thankful for, and sure enough, it's still more than fitting.
I am thankful that my husband comes home to me unharmed.For those who are facing much greater trials and tribulations then I could possibly understand, may God Bless them.
I am thankful that despite all those days and nights filled with worry and fear, I do not have to face life with those fears realized.
I am thankful that my husband is able to pick me up and swing me around when he comes home. (It sounds corny but yes, yes it happens more often then people would think around here).
I am thankful that my husband is able to get on the floor and wrestle with my boys. As babies, he tossed them into the air. As toddlers, he carries them on his back. And now he tosses a football around with them in the front yard.
I am thankful that for all the awfulness he saw, it has not taken over who he is.
I am so very thankful for my sweet family and how lucky we are to have all that we have.
So yeah, the parking may suck at Walter Reed, traffic can be a nightmare and I'm sure you can hear my kids scream from the other side of the beltway during the allergy testing. But depressing? No. I prefer to think of it as an inspiring place.