Living Conditionally and Parenting

I don't know when it started. It was probably something simple like I was having a bad pain day and something really needed to be picked up off the floor. So, since my son was down there anyway, I asked him to hand it to me instead of bending over. Or, because I am short as well as LC (living conditionally), I had him get up on a stool or counter to reach something up high rather than trying to do so myself.

It didn't even occur to me that my son understood my limitations until the first time my significant other went on a trip. I was doing my best, but I was seriously struggling. I had managed to get out of bed and warm up a cup of coffee, but that was about it. Later when my son, who was always very independent and wanting to do things for himself, was getting himself a sandwich. He was about 10 years old at the time. He stopped, came into the living room and asked me if I wanted him to make me a sandwich too, since my significant other was gone. He asked gently, softly, which I took to mean he understood my need for quiet when I was having a bad day.

I was speechless, which doesn't happen often. I finally said yes, if he didn't mind at all, I would love a sandwich. He smiled, and went back to the kitchen. A few moments later he brought me a peanut butter and jam sandwich on a paper towel. We ate together on the couch. I hugged and thanked him for helping me.

When he went back to playing, I cried a little. I was proud of my son, but I was ashamed of myself. After all, I was the parent. I was supposed to be the one taking care of him. I thought about the whole thing long and hard. Here are a few things I realized...

-I have a great kid. He is kind, understanding, and generous.
-Being helpful made him feel good about himself.
-On a bad day, making a sandwich might have taken a spoon or 2 when my supply was already short.
-Accepting his help gave me the energy to be able to cook dinner later.
-Being ashamed of my illness wasn't doing me any good. It is my life, my reality.

These days I ask for help easily and more often. He does little things to help me and we count them as part of his chores.