Someone said to me a couple of weeks ago..."You seem to be doing so well with everything." This was moments after I had had a partial breakdown out of nowhere.
Those happen, and they aren't usually partial, but usually I can hold out on them until I'm alone.
I'm a duck.
Well that seems random, so I should explain.
On the surface... things are calm and serene and I'm floating along in my happy little pond.
Most days, I appear to be just a normal happy little duck, letting the water roll off my back.
My Mom was like that. She would go shopping, leave on vacation or walk into Thanksgiving or Christmas celebrations, the picture of serenity, happy to see everyone, joking and hugging and smiling.
My mom was a duck too.
We see the duck above the water, but do you know what a duck looks like to a fish?
To a fish, a duck is this violent storm of kicking and splashing around just trying to get where they are going... knowing they won't survive if they don't...all while the rest of the world thinks they have no cares in the world.
The fish know the truth.
The truth is, my mom secretly (well not so secretly to us...) had major anxiety attacks before all those events. I learned to just try to take over to get some things done just like Karri always did... Dad and Lindsey learned to stay out of her way. I don't know how many times she threatened to stay home, or to cancel everything.
My Mom was a duck... kicking and fighting to survive... but on the surface she appeared to be letting the water roll right off her back.
I'm a duck.
On the surface I'm just taking it all in... letting all the muddy water of the last 6 months roll right off my back...
Thank God for the fish!
All those fish who tell me... "Just keep swimming... Just keep swimming"
I'm a Duck...and because of the fish I have the strength to just keep swimming and swimming.
Thank you all for being such understanding fish.
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