Wednesday, September 19, 2007

September 19, 2007

I had a fork day.

Funny thing forks. They're useful, but can be painful. They're often quite decorative, while truly meant to be merely functional. Forks, or a version thereof, are used by all cultures, all races, in all corners of the world - but some people may never have seen some kinds of them. There are shrimp forks, salad forks, dinner forks, and cheese forks. There are silver ones, pewter ones, gold ones, and tin ones. They can be large, small, 4 pronged or two. They can match, contrast, compliment or distract. The fork - you never knew how many forms it can come in.

Forks can describe stress, "Stick a fork in me, I'm done." They can describe the level of frustration you are reaching, "One more minute of this, and I'm going to stick a fork in my eye!" They can even be a suggestion to a certain individual who may be causing you undue stress, "Oh go fork yourself!"

Forks can deliver life-giving nutrition to an elderly patient in the hand of a loving caregiver. They can bring waves of pleasure as they offer a decadent 4 tier chocolate-mousse cake to the lips of a hormonal woman. Forks can bring comfort in the kitchen of your best friend, and spark wonderful memories at your mother's table. They can be your ally or your sworn enemy, depending on what they carry your way.

Then, there is the proverbial "fork" in the road. A "fork" brings with it imminent prospects. You can choose to go this way, or that. A "fork" in a road suggests possibilities begging to be taken. You can veer one way to bliss, or another way to torment. Even if you know your direction ahead of time, at the least - a "fork" provides a chance to pause and reflect. As a kitchen fork brings food for life, a "fork" in the road, can bring a chance to feed your soul.

I had a fork day.

On the diet front, my fork was rather kind to me today. It fed me eggs and onions for breakfast, and a healthy taco salad for lunch. Dinner was grabbed at a meeting. Even the plastic fork was kind to me today; it fed me a small and perfect-for-weight-loss salad, rather than the delicious, diet-crushing pizza my fingers were gunning for. You see, I've had a bit of an epiphany. My fingers like fattening foods! Cookies, chips, candy, bagels...they are definitely devotees of the digit. Salads and steaks, those are the food of the fork. All these years, I didn't have a problem with my eating habits...I had a habit of eating with the wrong delivery system! Hah!

Then, there's that most fascinating of forks, the kind you find right in the middle of your path. As I told you earlier, my path has been a bit strewn with Rocks these past few days. A Rock isn't like a fork. A Rock stands in your way, and forces you from your desired path. A fork, gives you a choice - a reason to consider the path you're on.

Today, I ran into a fork... My fork was in the form of a friend I've lost touch with in recent months. This friend has had a year of unbelievable heartache and loss. This friend has had a Rock dropped on her, and yet, she is moving down her path. My friend gave me a gift tonight, and she never knew she did it. She gave me a giant fork.

Yesterday, as I arrived at a meeting at our Children's Hospital, I was once again forced to pay to valet park. It seems small, but its more than a mild irritation. I volunteer my time on several hospital committees, speak often for the hospital's foundation, and spend more than enough days visiting the hospital for my daughter's medical needs. While I don't mind paying to park for normal hospital trips, it seriously rubs me wrong that I have been paying a tremendous amount of money for the privilage of volunteering my time to help the hospital. Never mind the 90 minute round trip to get to the hospital to attend the meeting, or the obnoxious amount of money we feed into our van's gas guzzling engine. Those are my fault for moving to the suburbs and having a brood that requires a van. But paying to park so I can serve the hospital...ooh, it irritates me.

So here I am, fuming, as I burst into my meeting. I was more than a bit rash, and I'm embarrassed to admit, more than a bit boisterous about my frustration. I did apologize later for my ranting, but the fact is, I did pretty good stress-fueled monologue. I rather beat the messengers, and it certainly wasn't any of their faults that I'm worried about Avalon or feel like I'm drowning in a list of financial, housekeeping, and school issues.

Enter, my fork. Tonight, I was, again, at the hospital for a meeting. (different committee) After the meeting, I shared a lovely conversation with my Fork friend. She was at yesterday's meeting, as well as today's. As we sat and tried to shorthand our lives from the past few months, she began to show me how narrow my path had become. In the midst of the heartache of losing a child, she has still managed to work, tend her other child, and continuously reach out to other medical families in need. She's helped other grieving families as they cross the threshold no parent wants to imagine. She's moving forward and reaching out - through the stress. Wow...she really started cutting those trees down for my road.

Then, she went and really did it. As we climbed in her car so she could ferry me to mine, she explained that after the fateful meeting yesterday, she had stayed late to work on solving my parking dilemma. Wham! She tossed a fork in my path.

The fork she created for me gave me two options, continue being a self-absorbed twit while ranting and raving...or walk the other way, and think about someone else. With a gift like that, I could barely even pause to reflect - I had to sprint down the good side. To do anything else, would have been an insult to her kindness. She gave me a whopper of a fork, and had no idea she'd done it.

Interesting, that a fork can help you destroy a Rock. Apparantly, finding the Fork, can sometimes shorten the path around life's Rocks. I've had giant Rocks tossed my way this week. It was nice to run into a Fork for a change.

I had a fork day.

And it was good.

- Alicia - the Crazy Cancer Mom

3 comments:

Anonymous said...

Alicia,

Your friend sounds like an amazing woman, but you also amaze me with everything you do! You take care of your family, you are Avalon's advocate, you volunteer for the hospital, and you are raising awareness and funding through this website; and all of this while losing weight! Sometimes, when a person is under a lot of stress (oh, say, Avalon's CSF issues this week), the small, seemingly insignificant irritant becomes a main focus point of our rage. I'm glad your friend was there for you when you needed her.

Take care,

Sue (Rachel's mom)

Anonymous said...

I've lost count of how many times I've blown up about something miniscule because the real issue was more than I could process at that moment. Give yourself a little leeway on this one...you're under a lot of stress and parking at Children's DOES suck! ;)

Donna Noble said...

Ok you made me cry. Not that it takes a lot to do that anymore but.... you know what I mean.
I was so glad that we were able to connect again after so long. Let's not let it be that long again.
Hope you get that parking pass.