The Fly and I

I am here to tell you of my latest journey into humbleness...and how one lone fly..I have named him Freddy.. has now become my constant companion.

I see that visions of me as Pig Pen are floating through your head. Please know..that it is ONE fly...and I truly hope I do not have a swirl of dirt floating around me. But honestly? Anything is possible.

What was supposed to be my journey into the world of boxing..of learning the tools (both physical and mental) to fight both in and out of a ring. My journey into awesomeness and more self-sufficiency.

 Instead, it appears to be yet another journey into humility and more humility. (yes..I do get that these too may be greatly related)

 It started with a broken foot. It started when I tripped on my own jump rope while jump roping in my kitchen...before I ever made it to the boxing ring. It was in pre- pre- pre -training that my journey really began.

It's not the doctors at the clinic openly laughing at my lack of gracefulness...or the orthopedist surgeon who was trying so kindly to surpress laughter at my attempts to jump-rope. It's not that my family felt inspired to write things on my cast like "Hey BIGFOOT", "Don't Do Your Own Stunts" and the like.

It's not that I went to work and could not get up or down the stair case in less than 10 minutes, or that I could fold a load of laundry, wash 5 dishes, throw another load in the wash and realize I was done for the day.

It's not that Big B bursts out into laughter at least once a day. Pure..can't catch his breath, tears pouring out of his face laughter...as he teases between gasps for air..what kind of break did the doctor call it? I try to ignore him...No..tell me..please tell me (more laughter, crying and gasping for air)

a dancer's fracture I say in as monotone a voice as I can muster.

More hysterical laughter and tears. I am so glad my clumsiness can create such delight in this man. This man I remind myself that I CHOSE to marry..in a conscious state even.



The ultimate road to humility, however,started with the hours upon hours, day upon day, night upon night..that I spent sitting/sleeping in the lazy-boy in my living room with a fly buzzing around my head.

 I would be sitting in my living room. Enjoying the absolute silence with my stack of books...and the fly would come. He buzzes..I swat..the fly goes just out of my reach..and as soon as I start to read again..BZZZ BZZZ.

Will you go away? I ask the fly.

He lands on my toes..the ones sticking out of the cast. You suck, I tell him.

We play this game for hours. I name him Freddy.

As soon as another human enters the room..Freddy mysteriously vanishes. (He must suspect I would ask someone to squash him)

Then? Late at night, when the house is once again quiet  and I am almost asleep..amidst my Tylenol and Benadryl induced mini-coma...I here him come back. Bzzz. bzzz..

The insane attempt to swat him continues. Freddy seems to think this is a great game. I cover my head with a blanket. Freddy lands in his favorite spot, on my toes. The toes I can't wiggle him off of, because, while I am still lucky enough to feel..I cannot move.

This nonsense continues for days..for nights..then one day? Freddy dares to hang out when a human friend comes over for coffee.

I hear him buzzing..my friend is getting us both a cup of coffee. Freddy lands on my foot. I want to tell him..go away. You are not invited. So...Freddy goes INTO my cast before I can inform him of this information.

I choose to ignore him...and then I feel it..the crawling around my ankle. I will have to 'fess up to my friend that a fly is now my constant companion.

Sandy...I think there's a fly in my cast.

No there's not..she says.

Yes..Yes there is.

Sandy comes and inspects in my cast. Nope. No fly there..she says..no room. She assures me it is my imagination.

I agree. I must be losing my mind.

An hour later, my friend leaves. Once again, alone in the quiet of my living room..I pull out my book.
..and then I feel it.

Freddy comes out of my cast..and the buzzing continues.

So now I have a friend. One I did not ask for....my friend sleeps with me, and reads with me..and climbs in my hurts...and shows me what I need to learn about myself.

Freddy, my fly friend, is giving me the greatest Christmas gift of all.

The gift of humility.