I named this blog after my mom's catch phrase, "I promise, I'm fine." Ever the quintessential caretaker, mom never wants to burden anyone. Ever.
Even when something is blatantly wrong, it isn't (in her eyes).
She wants everyone to be okay (and happy) all the time, every day.
Everything is always fine.
Nothing is ever wrong.
The best example of her I-promise-I'm-fine behavior was about 20 years ago. We were in Boca Raton, and she slipped on a patio veranda and fell down several steps. Her foot, calf, toes, and leg immediately started to swell, and I ran over to help her up.
"Mom! Are you okay?"
She smiled and said, "I'm fine."
I looked at her toes, foot and leg and squished up my face, but I responded the same way I always had, "Are you sure?"
"I promise, I'm fine."
Insert eye roll and cue Morgan Freeman's voice.
She wasn't fine.
By the time we had convinced her to get an x-ray, she had been walking on what turned out to be a fractured foot, sprained ankle, and broken toe for several weeks. A cast, crutches, and 8 weeks later, she was still "fine."
About a year ago, she came over to visit the kids, and when she and I were alone, she said, "You know those weird stomach 'things' I've been having? I think something's wrong."
If you've ever had laughing gas at the dentist, then you might understand the physical and auditory feelings I had at that moment. It was kind of a Charlie Brown teacher voice (wa wah wa), coupled with the visual of running through an endless tunnel with terrible burgundy wallpaper on the walls in the movie The Shining. If my mom was saying there's something wrong, then there is REALLY something wrong.
And there was.
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