PUT YOUR MASK ON FIRST
It’s admittedly been a minute. I mean a WHILE. My last entry here was in 2018, and today is well TODAY. So much has happened in my life since that time, and admittedly, depression, self-doubt and procrastination had me in a proverbial choke hold. Particularly leading up to and during COVID. However, I made sure to keep the Blog and domain alive because I felt one day I would be back. Here I am!! Declare that each morning when you open your eyes and look in your mirror and feel good about it! SHOUT IT OUT!!
I’m going to skip over quite a few major life developments in the past 5 years, to get to present day, so if you know me personally and are reading this, just know, I’m going to get back to that STUFF that you were (luckily, and some undeservedly) privy to. For now, let’s get into this piece.
Yesterday I returned from my 6th trip to Costa Rica visiting my son in his new home as an expat for the past 11 years. Yes 11. This trip was different in a number of ways. It was the first time that my best friend, -aka my son’s mother, aka, the rock of our “chosen” family- accompanied me and the first time in 8 years that she has laid eyes and hands on him. This was MAJOR for all of us. Also, my good friend from my new home for the past 11 years also accompanied us so it promised to make for a pretty great girls trip, which I had not done here in any of my prior visits. A separate piece needs to be dedicated to this aspect of the trip! In fact my last three visits were for the purpose of visiting my grandchildren.
Yes, plural! My grandson Asante was born Feb. 18, 2021. I rushed over in March 2021; the sheer excitement of it all never allowed me to consider that he wouldn’t remember me then (BUT later I knew that he would in some fashion), but I knew how ecstatic my son was to have his first child (at 33 years old). I had to share in his excitement. It was a short trip but beyond worth it. As an adoptee, I was VERY excited to have a biological grandbaby, another heir where there lied no question that they were of me. He was simply precious. The first time time I held him, much tinier than the pictures portrayed, I felt so happy for everyone. My son was suddenly tenfold the humble, easygoing, loving man I witnessed him growing into. Honestly, we’d not always had that relationship. But that was many, many years ago and many parent/child relationships are hard to navigate. It was great to see him in his element.
On Asante’s 1st birthday in February 2022, I made a trip to celebrate. At the time of my visit, I observed a tiny rip in the very sheer fabric of everything they had going on. I’d seen this before. I’d FELT this before. However; I was in awe of the glory of my first grandchild and watching these two young parents grow. I had hopes they would make it. They in fact DIDN’T make it, yet somewhere in between the turmoil, Ms. Aisha was conceived.
Aisha was born on October 5, 2022. During my visit for his 2nd birthday, and to see my granddaughter for the first time, things with them had completely fallen apart; and was at the corner of Ugly and One Way Street.
This disastrous turn of events would spin me into a depression for the next 6 months, disrupting the small sliver of mental headspace (prosperity) which I’d recently found. Not only was I worried about my mental health but also my son’s. I watched his social media posts and memes become darker, a little more somber. He frequently expressed how much he missed his kids, but especially his son. He posted things that gave me reason to immediately FB message him to ask WTH or WTF?!? I felt him sinking over 3800 miles away and it was affecting me. I mentioned to my therapist that I was anxious everyday. I had a few minor health issues that I was also concerned about. I was under stress with work travel and the care of my little dog Nefi, who I got in 2020. I too, was drowning.
So, this girl’s trip essentially was taken for sole purpose of uplifting my son. To encourage him to not give up and fight another day for himself and his children. To let him know that giving up is not an option in any shape, form or fashion. To first put HIS mask on and then return to the pressing task at hand. That self care is the best care. It encourages you to treat yourself kindly, and in turn treat others kindly. If you are not ok, no one is your path is really ok.
I attempted to see my grandchildren, and have them meet their extended chosen family; however it was not to be. Many people have asked me if I felt guilt about going there and not seeing them. The answer is yes. Very sad, guilty and embarrassed actually. I’d invited them. Twice. There was nothing I could do that was within reason based on the options I was given. However, in exchange, I expanded my mental prosperity headspace even further, got to learn new things about my valued friends, and how our friends really are here to support us in our moments of trial and will literally fly to the ends of the earth to make it happen. They each took turns giving unsolicited advice to my son as I eavesdropped from afar, and I felt so supported by that and I know my son did as well.
Surround yourself with good people, vibes and things. Your mind will thank you. Lean on those people, without apology. If they care for you and your mental health they will welcome the intrusion ( only we think we are intruding, right) and in turn they will encourage you to reach out when and if you need to. We need that! Surround yourself with the things that make you happy. Lean into your feelings at the moment and commit to running your hand along the wall to find your way out, no matter how long it takes to find that light. This trip gave me all of that, and I think it lifted my son as well. I would do it again and again, anytime it’s needed. So, put your mask on first. And get back to it. The magic can’t happen if you don’t.
