Today was Fibromyalgia Awareness Day. Here at the ranch, it was a decent day. Sir Pirtle laid smelly mulch in the backyard, and I washed every bit of dirty clothing and puppy linen at our address. And we both proudly wore our t-shirts in honor of the day. (And we ate takeout sushi for dinner. And it was amazing.)
I was touched by the texts, emails, and Facebook photos of loved ones and friends wearing their t-shirts, too. I know that, together, we made a difference today—simply by acknowledging the existence of this illness. Thank you.
Today was also Mother’s Day (!). Though I’d planned to see my sweet mama in Indiana this weekend, a bad flare this past week made that pretty much impossible. So, as fibro requires, we rescheduled. And I have her pretty presents waiting.
Goodness, how I adore that woman. Could she not be in a current Urban Outfitters ad? A-dorbs.
Also in honor of Mother’s day, I posted on Facebook:
Today I celebrate a glass half full. While I know more than a handful of women my age who have lost their mothers this year and who grieve their losses today, I have the incredible blessing of having my mother on this Earth still. I am graced with the love and wisdom of many “other mothers,” some I’ve known since birth, others I’ve found perchance, and some I’ve inherited through marriage. I have the joy of knowing many extraordinary mothers raising smart, empowered, kind children—and I get to call these women friends.
I am not a mother, but I do not feel disconnected from the power of motherhood. Today I celebrate it—for all it has done for me, and for all the brave, bold, unapologetic good it does in this world.
Here’s to you, mamas. You are a force to be reckoned with.
And that’s the truth.
The coming week offers an exciting hello and a heart-wrenching “see you soon.” We’ll welcome a foster dog, a greyhound-hound mix, into our home on Wednesday, and we’ll start the work of finding him a loving, forever home. On Thursday I’ll welcome one of my closest, dearest friends for a visit before she makes a cross-country move to Texas. I’m not going to entertain the idea of this being a goodbye of any sort. Rather, a great reason to return more often to the place I was born—that good ol’ Lone Star State.
[If you have fibro or love someone who does, order your t-shirt here.]