Try reading that without singing it in your head just like Neil Diamond would, I dare you.
If you're over the age of forty, it can't happen.
It's been awhile. A very, very long while. I have thought about writing a thousand and one times, but again, just like Ma used to share a quote from John Lennon: "Life is what happens when you're making other plans..."
So, here goes.
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The day it finally happened was no different than the day before. I peered through the glass to get a glimpse of my children with their friends, typically snacking before pick-up time. Today, though, was different. At the door, Ms. Maureen held out a sandwich baggie, a tiny tooth inside. Behold, the very first lost tooth.
Jimmy was quiet and steadfast in his walk to the door, careful not to make eye contact. But I know my boy. He put on a brave face when "it" happened, but once he saw me, all bets were off. My Little Old Soul knew the gravity of this milestone. I knelt down, arms outstretched, and waited for it. Once he melted in my arms, I could feel the tears hit my shoulder. Mads rubbed his back as I questioned him, "Did it hurt?" head shake 'No'. "Was it scary?" again, head shake 'No'. "What is it, Buddy?"
"Growing up is hard, Mama."
And there it is: The Uncomfortable Truth.
I carried him to the car that day, all 53.2 pounds of him, partly because I knew there would come a day that I wouldn't be able to, and partly because I knew that he just needed me to. Shuffling down the hallway with him in my arms, I couldn't help but think how much life this six-year-old has experienced, and how much of The Uncomfortable Truth he just "gets."
To me, The Uncomfortable Truth is just that: truth that doesn't lie, that doesn't spew sunshine and rainbows, even though that would, frankly, make things much easier. The Truth that everyone doesn't (and shouldn't) get a trophy. The Truth that you're not everyone's cup of tea. The Truth that life goes on and sometimes that just freaking hurts. The Uncomfortable Truth unveils the raw folds of dog-eared pages in your book of life: chapters of good, bad, and downright ugly.
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On a random Tuesday a few weeks ago while on our way to school, Maddy asked: "Mama, how did GeeGee go to Heaven?" The hard, proverbial lump in my throat prohibited me from answering. Noticing the pause in the conversation, Jimmy took care of it for me: "Maddy, she had the cancer." Which then led to her next line of questioning, "Mama, what's the cancer?"
"Well, Mads, it's when one tiny cell in the body decides to change and it makes a person sick."
"Oh, okay, but I don't want to get the cancer" she says, to which I counter, "You don't necessarily have the choice." Choice is not always a luxury afforded to us. Again, The Uncomfortable Truth.
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What is for you, will not pass you. This holds true for friends, opportunities, employment and especially in the mundane moments which allow you to move from who you once were to who you are now meant to be. The last few years for us Hacketts have been far from a whisper on the wind; I like to think of the time more like a palmful of glitter held in front of an ordinary table fan. One minute, sparkly and organized, and with the turn of the dial - a glistening mess all over the damn place. You know what, though? In picking up the pieces, we found strength in each other and in those who raised us up. Those who believed in the beauty of our mess helped us persevere, helped us become all the better for it. I've always thought glitter was a pesky art form, but it sure does sparkle, doesn't it? You have to see it for what it is, in this case - opportunity. You can either grab the dustpan, tidy up and toss it, or you can bust out the Elmer's and make it into something else. In the end, it was not all so bad - just make sure the glue dries on your new project, and be sure to entitle it The Uncomfortable Truth.
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It's the close of my nineteenth year of teaching. In the last few years, I have given a "Señora's Top Nine" bits of life advice to my graduating eighth graders, on our last day as a class. Here is number three:
Be of service to others. If you think your life is so bad, I can tell you, there are others out there who have it a heck of a lot worse than you. Be grateful for what you DO HAVE, and the more grateful you are, the more the world will give you things to be grateful for. Do something nice for people less fortunate, because there may be a day your life will turn and you’ll be on the receiving end. That is what makes life beautiful and scary at the same time...you just never know.
And there you have the most undeniable Uncomfortable Truth of all- you just never know.
You just never know. You never know when you'll have the last conversation with someone you love. Never know when the "best worst thing" that has ever happened in your life guides you to become the very best version of yourself. You'll never know when that tooth will finally fall out. But what I hope you do know, deep down to your very core, is that The Uncomfortable Truths of life serve to help you grow, persevere, and carry on (preferably with glitter in tow).
And that's the truth.
And maybe, just maybe, a $20 under your pillow from the Tooth Fairy could make things easier, too.
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As a side note, I googled "The Uncomfortable Truth" after writing. As it turns out, Mark Manson wrote a book encompassing these ideas in a book about Hope. You can find it here, perfectly summing it all up; although his version includes a spin I wish I could have put into words myself. I give credit where credit is due, and so should you. All ideas copyright 2019 More Seasoned Then, Dana Prezembel Hackett
