The party's over

The pity party, that is.  Nothing like a reality check to change your perspective.  I got mine today at a hospital.  I have a chronic illness that is under control with careful medication and management.  Not everyone is so lucky.  At the hospital today for my quarterly round of tests, I saw many people much worse off.  Many people in wheelchairs, on oxygen, and worse.  And sitting across from me in the waiting room was a mom whose child had some developmental disability, far more profoundly affected than my own.  So a slap on the left cheek, a slap on the right cheek, and my pity party is over.  

Pity Party

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It's Friday night and Anonymom is having a little pity party. Not big. She knows there are many people much worse off. But after working hard this week to keep all the plates spinning, racing to the finish line with a beautiful Shabbat dinner on the table, she wanted... something, anything; a kind word, a "How are you?", a hug, an invitation, someone else to spin one of the plates. But no. It's just me and Diver. Diver and me.