The Therapy Journals of the Fat-Headed Klingon Woman

One woman's journey to becoming Her True Self

There’s Truth, and Then There’s TRUTH. October 20, 2010

Hello all.  Day 6 of 30 Days of Truth-ish.  Our topic for the day is Something You Hope You Never Have to Do.  The blogger I borrowed this idea from said she hoped never to have to bury her husband.  I can understand that, but if I had a husband, in a more significant way than just on paper as I do, I would so much rather enjoy a long, happy life together and eventually bury him if I had to, than lose him any other way, like to divorce.  I cannot and will not ever go through that again. 


No, my “hope to never have to” is much worse to me than the thought of burying a husband, since I don’t have one; my answer is I hope I never have to bury another child.  Yes, I said ‘another.’  My first child was stillborn at 6 months’ gestation, and we went through the whole funeral experience.  I don’t mean to diminish it.  It was sad, and it was traumatizing, and it was painful and took time to get over, but I can say without hesitation, it would be unfathomably worse to have to say goodbye to one of the children I’ve raised and loved and enjoyed.  Baby K was more of an idea.  A possibility, a hope, a dream.  Daughter S, Daughter J, and The Boy are realities.  They are the reality that keeps me going every day.  They are the reason I am here.  They are the anchor that keeps me from drifting into insanity at times, and sometimes they are the wind that blows me there! 


But the idea of this exercise is truth, and that is mine.  Of course, there are many other things I hope to never do in my life, like get bitten by a snake, or go to jail, or get hit by a train.  Those would pretty much suck.  And of course, there are the things I will inevitably have to do that are a part of life, like go to the funerals of my friends, relatives, and immediate family.  Not looking forward to that, really.  And there are things like getting cancer or some other debilitating or mind-destroying disease like Alzheimers.  Definitely don’t want to go through those. 


But overall, I think the worst thing I could ever go through in life, the thing I hope to never, ever do, is to lose one of my children.  I have to say, though, that I’d be able to bear their loss a thousand times if they were children of God, if they were baptized into Christ or had not yet reached the age of accountability, than I could even once if they were lost.  That would be truly unbearable, because the truth of all truths is that heaven and hell are both real, and waiting. 


I realize this has been a total downer of a post.  And I don’t know if it would be better to end here and preserve the impact of my words or share a story that would ease the sadness and get a laugh.  So I think I’ll risk it and share the story, because it’s really quite amazing how uncouth some people are.  I guess this could fall under the category of today’s topic.  I hope to never in my life be this unthinking and inconsiderate of another person’s feelings:


At work today, I was sharing with my obnoxious co-worker the story of why I was wearing the particular shirt I’m wearing today, which is a t-shirt with a picture of a monkey in a suit sitting at a computer, and reads “I ‘heart’ Monkey Business.” I wore the shirt because I just randomly picked it up and tried it on to see if it would fit and it did! I was celebrating because it was a 2X t-shirt instead of the 4 or 5 I used to wear!

So I’m telling co-worker all this and she asks me what size my work shirt is. (I used to work Saturdays only, so I have one uniform shirt that I wear occasionally, but usually I wear my own clothes with an apron bearing our logo.) So I tell her “Oh, I don’t know, probably about a 4” (meaning 4XL). And she looks and me and makes her eyes get big and says, and I’m not kidding here, “GOD, that’s huge!”

I just rolled my eyes and went on with what I was doing. I think she continued with some blather about “See, don’t you feel better? Won’t you be glad when you can wear a medium? You’re making progress!”


Yeah.  Progress in the area of not responding with the following snark:  “Pardon me, Ma’am.  Stupid Police.  I’m afraid I’m gonna have to run you in, ’cause you’re a complete idiot!”


Until next time,



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