Page 97 of The Ground Beneath Our Feet
The warm, late summer sun of Capri kissed my back as I lounged by the water in a navy two-piece bathing suit. The waves lapped against the shore. My legs were still sore from running a 5K three days ago. But this was my reward.
I pulled my book out of my beach bag. A paper slipped out.
27 yo f with history of obesity and diabetes presenting to clinic for follow up of same.
1. Obesity—resolved; with diet and exercise changes is now overweight. We discussed the behavioral changes she has made to get to this point, and she feels confident that she can continue to pursue a healthy lifestyle.
2. Prediabetes—resolved; last HgbA1c 5.3%, repeat in 6-12 months or sooner as needed
A clean bill of health.
I’d kept up the yoga and workouts with Mikey. And while I wasn’t thin by any stretch of the imagination, I’d never been healthier in my life. Or more in love with my own body. Or him.
Before we left for Italy, we’d driven down to L.A. to gather the things I’d left behind at my mom’s house. When we pulled up to the house, Mikey got a strange look on his face. “This is where you grew up?”
“Yeah.”
I looked around, seeing what he saw. No trees. The low bungalow houses on both sides of the street had bars on the windows. A boarded-up and graffiti-sprayed liquor store sulked on the corner. He shook his head. “Now, I understand.”
He really did understand me. He’d even been to therapy with me. I loved that he did that.
We walked up to the front door holding hands. I was unsure of whether I should just go in or knock.
But my mom opened the door, beaming, her arms wide open.
“Mija! Mikey! So happy to see you!”
She shuttled us into the living room, where an older gentleman was sitting on the couch. He stood when we walked in, and my brothers ran over and tackle-hugged me.
“This is my new friend, Gerald.”
The gentleman shook my hand. He had kind eyes and a smile, his salt and pepper hair neatly cut, wearing a blue button-down shirt and slacks.
I liked him.
After lunch with my family, at which time I didn’t overeat, I followed my mom to my room. She’d cleaned it out and made a sewing room for herself.
Good.
While part of me was sad to leave my childhood room, it was more important that my mom was starting to take care of herself.
Maybe I’d only thought she couldn’t because I’d been so codependent. Now that I’d detached from her, she was free to live her own life, too.
A pile of clothes were folded on a chair. I picked one up—a pair of plain black pants. These had been mine. The smaller sizes I’d left behind when I’d moved.
But when I held them up to me, I knew they’d be too big.
“You can give these to charity, Mom. I don’t think they’ll fit me anymore.”
We hung out afterward, and when I left, I turned to Mikey. “That was my past. You’re my present and my future. I’m so glad.”
He kissed my hand and kept driving.
Here, in Capri, it was too warm to read my book. Time for a dip. He reached over, kissed my hand, and turned on his back. “Wanna go to a nice dinner tonight, baby?”
“I totally do. I have a new dress to wear.”
“I look forward to seeing it. On my floor.”
