Taking a Breath

Saturday morning, early, at the Frothy Monkey.  The boys and I are heading down for my mom's Christmas brunch at 10 a.m.  They're at home - up early as usual - watching "Dude Perfect" on JP's iPad in the bed w/Jude while she reads.

I finished up at work mid-afternoon yesterday having done all I could do before Christmas, really all I could do before New Year's Day, because I'm planning on taking next week off.  The longer I practice the law - 25 + years now - the less it bothers me to tell a client, realistically, that I just can't get to something.  My mom's situation puts work in perspective, too, I think.

Some work can wait.  Some work has to wait.

I've been completely covered up the last four months.  Long hours - in early and staying late - a lot of mediations, too.  A lot of mentoring, so to speak, with two new attorneys starting the last six months. A lot of hiring, too, with staff changes.  Then, late in the year, a lot of work on a new business opportunity that my partners and I are involved in.  Just, really, a lot.

Maybe it helps me to stay busy at work.  I suspect it probably does because it keeps my mind off my mom's declining health.  I was having a drink with my paralegal, Julie, the other night, after we had gotten a great result in a trial earlier in the day.  It was a case we'd worked hard on - I had busted my ass - so we were quietly celebrating our good fortune.  It was more a feeling of relief because I really, really wanted a good outcome for my client.  She needed it and it was the right result, but you never know what will happen in trial.

At one point, Julie looked at me, took a sip of her wine, and said, "I don't know how you do it.  I don't know how you manage everything."

"I compartmentalize," I replied, which I guess is what I do.  Family time is family time.  Work time is work time.  Time with my mom is time with my mom.  I try not to worry too much about anything else when I'm doing one of those activities.  Maybe that's being present and in the moment.  Or maybe it's just survival.

Sometimes it all catches up to me, which is kind of what happened the last week or so.  I've been more down, I think, than I've ever been.  I had a mini-breakdown of sorts, nothing serious, just a conversation with Jude where I told her how hard it all was for me and how much I was struggling.  I normally keep my deepest feelings about all of this to myself.

I also confessed, in a text, to my law partner, Mark, how hard it all was.  I think it surprised him a bit for me to verbalize it.  He told me that he thinks about my family every day but really doesn't know what to say.  And that he's praying for us.  That helped.  I'm not sure why, but it did.

Sometimes, just knowing that I - we - are on people's minds and in their prayers is of comfort to me.

I don't want to burden anyone else with my struggles - with my family's struggles - it's my journey and I've got to complete it myself, accompanied at times by Tracy and Alice.  Mostly, though, I have to go it alone.  I've got to see it through to the end and trust that those I love and that love me will be waiting for me when the journey is over.

It's strange, but I think I take solace in the familiar.  What I mean by that is I go to the same coffee shops (the Monkey or Honest Coffee Roasters) or bars for the occasional drink (Edley's), where I easily and happily converse with people I know, but don't know too well.  By and large, they don't know about my mom's situation or how down I am or have been.  We smile and laugh together and talk about superficial subjects but nothing too deep, at least not on my side of the ledger.

Often, over time, I learn about their lives.  Why?  I'm a good listener and I'm naturally curious about people.  And it's just easier.  For me, there's comfort in the familiar - I've always been a creature of habit.  But there's also comfort in going somewhere that I don't have to talk about my mom, how I feel or how sad I am.  The superficiality, I guess, is comforting.

At work, Julie has been such a good friend.  We work together so closely.  It's the same with Alisha, too, an attorney with whom I've been working side by side for more than a decade.  They know my moods, I think, and can tell if I'm down or having a bad day.  And, every now and then - like this week - in a weak moment, I'll unburden myself and tell them how hard it all is.  I'm not sure I can ever repay them for listening and for being there for me.  But I'll try.

So, Christmas is upon us.  Time to take a take a breath, forget about work, and be present for my family.  Really present.  I'm looking forward to some time with Jude and the boys.

And I'm in a better state of mind.