How to Survive a Tree Falling on You - Track #10

Jeff was the first non-Portland friend to visit me in the hospital. It was so good seeing him. It felt like home.

Minutes after he hugged me, he told me had two questions for me that I didn’t have to answer right away:

“One: Do you want to marry me and be on my heath insurance? Two: do you want to come live with me in Palms Springs where I have a first floor condo and bathroom and I can and take you to all of your appointments…and you get to live with CJ (his dog)?”

I started crying.

It wasn’t the first time Jeff had proposed to me. But it was the first time I really understood why.

Because I was finally in a place where I actually couldn’t take care of myself.

I had never experienced that before. But Jeff had - in so many ways. But I never thought that day would come for me. It was pretty foolish of me to think that (I’m realizing now as I write this). But that’s how I was raised. I was raised to take care of myself. To be self sufficient. To not depend on depending on anyone.

And I did a pretty good job of that. I did a pretty good job of building a life where I could handle whatever was in front of me by myself. A life where I could get out of any bind I found (or put) myself in (for the most part).

And then a tree fell on me. And I had to depend on everyone.

I had to depend on strangers to help me, paramedics to rescue me, doctors to save me, and nurses to take care of me. I had to depend on my friends and family in ways I had never imagined. I had to depend on everyone I came in contact with because I couldn’t take care of myself.

It was so foreign to me. But I didn’t really have a choice in the matter. So I had to just go with it.

Jeff and I didn’t get married.

And I didn’t move to Palm Springs.

But he showed me a love that was always there.

A love that was there to take care of me when I couldn’t take care of myself.

I love I always had but didn’t know I needed.