Sicko

This past weekend, I was donned as a sicko. Saturday was all frolicking in the fields practicing softball, spinning around in circles and catching butterflies while staring up at the cumulus clouds as the hot sun beat down on my back out in right field. The night was spent relaxing and enjoying the company of friends with a meal and some conversation. But alas, this perfect Saturday brought a terrible Sunday. And a terrible Sunday it was.
I was awoken at the crack of dawn to find my mouth parched, unable to breathe due to a stuffy nose, and a headache that was uncannily similar to what a drill sergeant would sound like inside your head. According to Tylenol Cold, I had qualified for all the symptoms of a cold/flu.
However, my pride got to me and I brushed these symptoms aside for it was Sunday! I had to teach the little tots at church and it was Abby's first birthday (a shindig that was not to be missed). As I was driving on the way to church, my pride was broken. Feverish and sweating, I barely passed 3 spotlights until I had to turn the car around defeated.
It's funny that even as we grow old, we're reminded that with old age does not come immortality or supernatural powers as we, I'm sure all of us thought this at one point or other in our lives, once thought. We fall, and we are put in a state of helplessness and vulnerability. It is here that we realize we do in fact need help and cannot do things on our as assumed. But even in our moments of weakness, we are shown grace. My parents are wonderful people. They nurtured and pampered me as if I were their 2yr old daughter once again. Let me tell ya...it is good to feel loved despite our nasty character as a sicko.