Every time I find myself subconsciously gathering the goods to through a good old-fashioned pity party, I hear my mama speaking. I can hear her saying, “You better stop acting like a lil girl, quit all that whinin’, and carryin’ on.” I don’t care what I was upset about, I don’t care how frustrated I was, her response was always to stop whining and to get about my grown woman business.
Mama has been gone for over a year now, but I’ll never forget her words and I’ll always, always glean from her strength as a woman. There’s always someone who has or has had a harder life than you, but as stories go, Mama’s life was pretty rough. She had been married and widowed by the time she was 14 and gave birth to my oldest brother by the time she was 15. She never had a childhood because work was all she knew. While other girls her age were in school, she and one of her sisters were out building railroad ties. That’s labor, folks; that’s hard, hard labor.
She worked hard so that we wouldn’t have to suffer the things she did. I don’t know what hard labor is, but I do know how to handle a tractor, change my own oil, cut down a tree to get firewood and plant a full garden. I know how to take care of myself and that thought, along with Mama’s voice, is what snapped me out of the party-planning mode a little earlier today. Part of the problem is that I’m just sick and tired of being sick and tired. Things aren’t going the way I want them to right now, but I’ve lived long enough to know that everything happens at the exact moment it’s supposed to.
In that light, the party is off. I refuse to feel sorry for myself and I won’t let anyone else feel sorry for me. What I have to remind myself of is the fact that I’m able-bodied and most importantly, I’m able-minded and there’s nothing I can’t do. It’s all about getting up and actually putting into motion all the steps to the plan that will make me great.