A Guest Post from Joe McVeen from FB

"I was 14 when my mom fell down the stairs.

I got home off the school bus and followed a trail of blood to her bed, where she lay covered in crimson from her head wound. She used a pillow as a bandage.
I stood there holding the home phone, petrified, my finger hovering over the “9” to call an ambulance. I had never called 911 before and I had almost worked up the courage to do so when Mom half-consciously insisted that I didn’t.

I asked her repeatedly if she was sure, and she insisted again and again that she was fine and it wasn’t a big deal. And as much as I pretended to be independent then, her word still carried enough weight for me to obey. So I didn’t call. I turned and walked shell-shocked out of the room, raced to my bicycle and went off to play football until I had erased the memory completely from my mind.

Two weeks later she was immediately life-flighted the moment she got to the hospital. In those two weeks, the bleeding on her brain dried and swelled, severely damaging her motor function, behavior, and memory. The mom I had always known was gone.

I watched the helicopter take off in total silence. I thought I was blaming her for falling, but I was truly blaming myself for not dialing those three numbers.

That simmering silent blame was cemented in me for years. I masterfully suppressed the biggest trauma of my life, and made it look like I was perfect on the outside. A varsity football captain, full academic engineering scholarship, glimmering resume, the best internships, I made sure to check all the boxes.

This compressed blame fueled me to place more and more weight of external success on my shoulders. I went to personal development seminars, read dozens of books, and planned my whole engineering career out to the dollar.
Then one day the unnecessary ego weight on my shoulders was finally too heavy, and the false shell of bullshit came crashing down.

I visited my mom in the nursing home and cried like a baby with her on her bed. I held her like I should have the day she fell. I told her how sorry I was for not calling 911, how much I have always loved her, and forgave her with all my soul while looking deep into her tear-strewn brown eyes.

In that beautiful moment, I also forgave that shell-shocked 14-year old boy in me. I told him that he did the best he could with what he knew at the time, and now he was free to stop running from his problems to go off and impress people in some game or career.

It was that instant that I developed the loving courage to face real problems with all my heart, which is the source of the passion I bring to my mission today.

Winning is not healing. Impressing is not healing. Fitting in is not healing.

In a moment of loving forgiveness, your greatest struggle becomes your greatest strength.

It's all love, my friends. Don't forget to forgive yourself too.

Please share this message so others can be inspired to walk the path to healing, growing and inspiring ❤️.

I love you Mom, for the beautiful soul beneath your broken body. I thank you for all that you sacrificed for me to become a man."

Joe McVeen