Today I ran into an old friend.
We exchanged pleasantries, and I asked her what was new. Following her heavy sigh and declaration that "not much is new, same old, same old, she asked me the same question.
I joked about my weight loss journey, proudly stated my accomplishments, and with much excitement told her of my upcoming half marathon. I smiled ear to ear while I told her that we drove all the way to BC for a summer vacation, and how the entire experience was super-wonderful. I told her how excited all three kids are for school. Then I told her my big news.
She looked at me - kind of scrunched up her face - wrinkled her nose, looking down at me, she blinked her eyes a few exaggerated times and replied, "You're sure being a bit nonchalant about the whole deal aren't you?"
"Ya, nonchalant. You know: Hey, I've lost 80-something pounds, I am running a half marathon, we drove to BC, had a camping trip, kids going to school, life is great, and oh, ya, my mom has stage three cancer. Jeez, Laura, that seems a bit nonchalant to me..."
I was awestruck. It felt like I was just sucker-punched.
Oh, the reply I wanted to scream back at her. But I was speechless.
No, I am not being nonchalant. Not at all. Life goes on, life has to go on. But while life is going on, every moment and every second of the day, I am thinking of my mom, the battle ahead of her and I am feeling a million, trillion emotions.
I am not being nonchalant.
I am sad. Scared. Hopeful. Upset. Faithful. Cheerful. Tearful. Supportive. Angry. Positive. Nervous. Numb. Trusting. Spiritual. Foggy. Steady. Fearful. Courageous. Terrified. Confused. Caring. Stunned. Loving. Helpful. Inadequate. Empathetic. Anxious. Sympathetic. Shocked. Concerned. Optimistic.
I am a million emotions all wrapped up.
I pray and hope and know that everything will be fine.
I am anything, but nonchalant.
I am anything and everything I can be and I need to be to help and support my mother, my best friend.
Nonchalant, I am not.