Let's Shake On It

For all the lessons I learned from my dad, there are a couple that I'm reminded of more frequently than others. The first one is one of the most important ones, I think, the one about keeping my word and being extra careful about saying the words, "I promise." I can almost hear Daddy's voice as he said, "You're only as good as your word, Sam ... always do what you say you will do, and don't make a promise unless you're sure you can honor it." I'm not sure I understood how good Daddy's advice was when I was growing up, but I absolutely understand the importance of keeping my word and honoring my promises now. The second lesson pops into my mind every single time I shake hands with someone ... it may not be quite as emotionally deep as the first I mentioned, but it certainly made a lasting impression on me. Daddy always said you could tell a lot about people by their grip when you shake their hands ... how confident they are, how straightforward they are, how honest they are, how real they are. And the other thing he said about a handshake? That if my handshake is signifying an agreement of some sort, it's the same as making a promise and giving my word to follow through and do my part.

It's been a while since I've mentioned my life-saving head doctor, so to answer the many of you who've asked ... yes, I still see her on a regular basis. In fact, when I left her office this morning, I couldn't help but wonder which will happen first ... her releasing me or me drawing Social Security. There's a reason why I don't often write about what we discuss during our sessions, and that's because we talk about some really, really, really difficult and personal subjects ... duh ... she is a head doctor after all. But tonight, I'd like to share a couple of things we chatted about this morning because I have a feeling someone else may benefit from my life-saving head doctor's wise words, too.

As much of a word person as I am, both in writing and speaking as well, some words are difficult for me to pen and nearly impossible for me to say. When the doctor and I talked about a few of those particular phrases this morning and the importance of me speaking them aloud, she made an interesting point ... one that I'm sure I'll be pondering for a long while to come. When I talked about how afraid I am to verbalize certain words, the good doctor said, "That's because saying them out loud to someone makes it real ... that's why you're afraid." And you know what? She's right ... she's exactly right. I've asked my doctor many, many times if she truly believes I will one day be okay with who I am, and as I stood at her desk as she completed my paperwork this morning, I asked again.

"I know I've asked you before, but do you really believe I will ever be okay with being who I am?

My life-saving head doctor looked directly into my eyes as she replied, "Yes, you will."

"When? How much longer?" I asked quietly.

"You won't like my answer," she stated matter of factly.

"I want to know," I pleaded.

"I can't give you a time or day when you're going to be okay, Terrie. But I can tell you that you will be. In fact, you want to shake on it?" she said as she extended her hand. "Let's shake on it."

As I shook her hand, two thoughts exploded into my brain. "She has a strong grip and a firm handshake," was my first thought. But it was the second one that caught me off guard and brought tears to my eyes as I left her office a few minutes later. "I trust her," I thought ... "I trust her, and I believe her." I trust that she's worked tirelessly to help me, and that she won't stop until I'm okay being me. I believe her when she says I'm going to find my place of okay-ness (that may be my new favorite word, by the way ... okay-ness), perhaps much sooner than I realize. Remember the day I had the meltdown at work and sort of kind of told my friend the truth? That was the day the life-saving head doctor gave me her personal cell phone number. I've never used it, but as I turned to leave this morning, she reminded me that I have her number and told me to use it if I needed to. I said I would, and she said, "Promise?" I'd say she knows me pretty darn well to pull the promise card on me. "I promise," I said, as I nodded my head. "I promise."

Let's shake on it ... let's shake on it indeed.