What we can do, together

The most supportive person in my life, always, is my son. He has a surprising amount of wisdom for a boy of almost ten - or maybe not surprising, if you know him. He's a wonderful combination of old soul and childish innocence, which makes for a very honest supporter. 

When I told him I was considering the surgery, his initial reaction was one of concern - he's seen a few episodes of the weight loss television shows I've been watching for ages, and the thought of any possible complications or issues during or after the procedure is understandably terrifying for him. I reassured him as best as I could, and also reminded him that there are risks in everything - even walking down the street could be dangerous if you're in the wrong place at the wrong time. 

As much as he could, he agreed, and he cuddled up saying he supported me going forward. There was a sweet reluctance in his voice as he said it - loving me and trusting me to do what is best, but lingering worry and concern in the back of his mind.

I've been mulling over how to calm his nerves, and this morning on the way to school, I think I finally reached him. I told him that once I get the surgery and start to lose weight, there is so much more I will be able to do - things we used to do that I got too big for, and things I've never done. He loved the thought of being able to go kayaking again (especially since he won a little boat at Cub Scouts a few months ago that, at my current size, we wouldn't be able to use together), and being able to go together on every ride at Disneyland ... but he really lit up at the thought of playing dodgeball with me at the trampoline park.

This is why I want to be healthy again - for him, and for that joy, the absolute excitement at the idea of what we can do, together - now, and for a hopefully longer and healthier life.