I got my chance to ask Lan about the argument I overheard. At first he didn't want to tell me, but when he realized what I had heard here's what he said.
"I can only imagine how it sounded, but I promise it was nothing as terrible as it may have seemed. Jay... well, he thought, sensed somehow that something was wrong. Long story short. I had to explain to him what we think happens as we age, what we think will happen to me. I was trying to save you from extra worry when I told him not to mention our conversation to you. I'm sorry it had the opposite effect. I just wish you'd asked about me about this sooner."
"I can only imagine how it sounded, but I promise it was nothing as terrible as it may have seemed. Jay... well, he thought, sensed somehow that something was wrong. Long story short. I had to explain to him what we think happens as we age, what we think will happen to me. I was trying to save you from extra worry when I told him not to mention our conversation to you. I'm sorry it had the opposite effect. I just wish you'd asked about me about this sooner."
His explanation makes sense. It also seems like he might be holding something back -- like he's choosing his words very carefully. But I decide to trust him. Even if there is a little more to it, I believe that Lan has his reasons for keeping quiet. I'm not going to dwell on suspicions. Life's too short to squander it. We already know our time together is limited; I won't sour whatever time we have left.
Besides, Jay doesn't let on that there was any more to their conversation either. Being the mom I am, I assume he needs to talk about it, to help cope with it. But when I ask Jay if he wants to talk about it his answer is always a version of "no".
"Jay, sweetie, are you sure? It might make you feel better." I ask for the second time in a day.
"Talking about it won't change anything, Mom. Life sucks sometimes. End of story." Jay says and then heads upstairs to use the punching bag, no doubt.
Besides, Jay doesn't let on that there was any more to their conversation either. Being the mom I am, I assume he needs to talk about it, to help cope with it. But when I ask Jay if he wants to talk about it his answer is always a version of "no".
"Jay, sweetie, are you sure? It might make you feel better." I ask for the second time in a day.
"Talking about it won't change anything, Mom. Life sucks sometimes. End of story." Jay says and then heads upstairs to use the punching bag, no doubt.
He spends more time with that punching bag than ever. Working out his frustrations, I guess. It's part of why I wish he'd talk to me about it, but I suppose exercise can be a healthy coping strategy too.
Unfortunately sometimes the punching bag sessions seem to add to his frustrations. He gets tired quickly. Well, so do I. It's another of the realities we just have to live with. My theory is that there is something, in the air or maybe the limited nutrition , that has caused a noticeable amount of muscle deterioration and a diminished lung capacity.
"Mom!! Why!!" Jay still leans toward the dramatic sometimes. It's a skill I'm certain he mastered during his story-telling days in years past. "Why can't I work out for longer than about thirty minutes without feeling like I'm going to collapse? I'll never master boxing at this rate!"
I've explained it to him before -- my guesses about why it's so difficult to build up any endurance -- so he's not really looking for any answers from me. I guess that's why he doesn't even give me a chance to respond before continuing his rant.
"I'm just tired of it! You know what?! I'm going to beat this! I'm making this my mission! I'm not going to just lay down and quit. Not cause it's just a little difficult -- okay, a lot difficult --I'm going to keep training. I don't care how often I have to rest; I'll jump right back into it as soon as I catch my breath. Every time. Every day. Until I've mastered it! I'm going to fight! What do ya say, Mom? Are you in?"
"In what? The fight? You want to fight me?" I tease. "I know you're getting older and bigger, but I think I could still take you."
"No you goof. Will you help me? You've always been my teacher and my trainer."
I've explained it to him before -- my guesses about why it's so difficult to build up any endurance -- so he's not really looking for any answers from me. I guess that's why he doesn't even give me a chance to respond before continuing his rant.
"I'm just tired of it! You know what?! I'm going to beat this! I'm making this my mission! I'm not going to just lay down and quit. Not cause it's just a little difficult -- okay, a lot difficult --I'm going to keep training. I don't care how often I have to rest; I'll jump right back into it as soon as I catch my breath. Every time. Every day. Until I've mastered it! I'm going to fight! What do ya say, Mom? Are you in?"
"In what? The fight? You want to fight me?" I tease. "I know you're getting older and bigger, but I think I could still take you."
"No you goof. Will you help me? You've always been my teacher and my trainer."
It's practically impossible to say no to him after that passionate speech he just gave. Plus I'm more than a little happy to know --to hear-- that he still needs me. I mean, as much as I want Jay to be able to take care of himself, as a mother it's nice to feel needed. I guess even the apocalypse doesn't change the fact that it's bittersweet to see your child growing up.
So of course I say yes. "Let's do it!"
So of course I say yes. "Let's do it!"
So we stepped up our already regular training schedules. We were already taking daily jogs. Now we take at least two.
Jay does seem very committed to this at least for now. He spends hours each day with the punching bag. Not continuously, but cumulatively. At first I was a little concerned about his health if he over exerts himself. But he seems very careful to take the needed rests periodically.
Sometimes I take a turn while Jay's resting up -- catching his breath. And I'm doing my best to mentor him, but I'll be the first to admit that I'm no boxing expert. That was definitely a sport I was never really interested in before.
And truthfully I think Jay has already surpassed my skills.
Often I hear him while he's training. "What do I do when I start to feel defeated?"
Often I hear him while he's training. "What do I do when I start to feel defeated?"
"I fight."