Salvation

I can do this. I can do this. This is the mantra I repeat in my head. I can do this. Hope is a fledgling bird beating against my breast. My heart, its winged companion.

I can save myself.

I can hear my good friend say, "How empowering." She said this to me once before while I was relaying my morning to her. I was packing the car up with purses and school supplies and my oldest son, then 3 years old, when a strange man walked down my street. It was a dead end street and strange men were an odd sight. Living as a single woman alone with her child, I was on the cautious (read: paranoid) side. On instinct I locked the car and slammed the doors to protect my baby from this potential threat. My baby and evidently, my car keys as well. The morning wasn't too warm, but I had to get him out of there NOW. I ran to the neighbor's house to call 911 and speak with a slightly confused operator. For some inexplicable reason, a fire engine came roaring down my little one way street. Not a police car. Not officials who would have some way to get into the car. These large men were powerless to get my baby out, but my little one, with coaching from myself and two firefighters rocked his buckled car seat back and forth until he had loosened it enough to reach over and unlock the door. A cheer from two burly men and an anxious mama erupted in the driveway before the small red house. He had saved himself!

I do not have a coach. I do not have two angels in yellow rubber pants cheering me on. But I can do this. I can save myself. When you count on other people for your happiness, you automatically condemn yourself. But when you count on yourself for your happiness, your odds increase. I can do this. I can do this. I will rescue me, and Brother, and Jelly, and Honey, too. I will save us all. I just need to give it time. Time for growth. Time for saving. Time for living. Just time.