Health Care Debate. "I wish I had more......"

A funny thing happened while I was attending the book fair for 2 of our grlz last week. I learned a lesson that I wish the Democrats in Congress would heed. Health care for all is an ideal I wish we could afford. But reality bites.

I went so I could buy books for the grlz and participate in their joy as they made their special choices. Chelsea's went smoothly, thus I was unprepared for how I'd feel during Chloe's fair. My heart still aches.

I saw out of the corner of my eye her classmate Stephanie sobbing. Their teacher was trying to console her, but her attempts were in vain. I approached the teacher and asked if Stephanie was upset because she didn't have any money. When that was answered in the affirmative, I asked if it would be OK if I bought her one. The teacher hemmed and hawed, obviously torn between 2 valuable lessons: generosity versus contentment. Well, just call me "Mrs. Soft-Touch."

I put my arm around this fragile, embarrassed 9-year-old and asked if she'd like to pick out a book. In a whisper, she said "Yes." I told her to pick something less than $5 because even I was on a budget. It was one of those days where I felt like I really made a difference.

How does this translate to the health care debate? The teacher told me almost 1/2 of her class had no money. She informed me that I couldn't buy for everyone. Oh, how right she was! As much as my heart longed to give each child a book, I simply could not. My family would go broke. While not a perfect analogy, the sentiment, emotions, desire, and heartache are similar.

Congress, pay attention! We simply cannot give everyone health care because we cannot afford to. I know you long for every man, woman, & child to have access to quality health care. So do I. However, you have not been entrusted with the power to take what is not yours and give it to someone else whom you deem more deserving. You have been entrusted with the good judgment and common sense to make very difficult decisions about how to balance the interests of every man, woman, and child you represent. To be irresponsibly generous now will have disastrous consequences later. Please be wise now for the sake of the future of all children.

I was running . . . . . . .

I still crack up at the way mildly-retarded Forrest Gump told Jenny that he had been running. Now, granted, the man was a little nutso for running non-stop for who knows how long. And perhaps we runners are mildly retarded in general. However, I love this little happy place in which I find running cathartic, therapeutic, and **GASP** fun. My running is mine all mine. No little people allowed.

I have never come up with fabulous, big-cash slogans like "Sh** happens" when I am running, but I do gain access to a special piece of myself when I am pounding the pavement. As a mom, I have discovered that although I have not lost certain parts of me as a woman, they seem to be misplaced. Creativity. Meditation. Quiet spirit. Smarts. Yeah, I used to actually be smart. Here's the cool thing, though. When I am running, my blood pumping and my lungs expanding, I am transported to the place where I feel the most myself. It's magical. Spiritual.

Forrest ran to deal with pain and loss. Whether dealing with post-partum hormonal hell or pervasive, debilitating depression, I know deep in my heart that my running has time and again saved me. Forrest stopped because he was tired. I will stop when I am dead.