Coming Up For Air

Without a doubt, these last few months have been the hardest of my life. Someone told me in December that I would be walking through a shadowy time but nothing could prepare me for the impact. I didn’t know I was living with a necrotic gallbladder, 2 surgeries were coming, and we would lose people we loved. I rarely am able to sleep a full night but it leads to levels of exhaustion that make me feel aged. I haven’t written since my poem for my grandfather and this afternoon was the first time I wanted to write anything. I thought here would be the best place to start. I am thankful a few people in my life have reminded me that it’s ok to take breaks. A friend suggested I am creating a new body.

God, I hope so.

I am missing joy so much. I could cry at the thought of it.

I wanted to follow up that last sentence up with something about gratitude but I am going to let that one stand. Because it’s the truth. It’s a bit hard to see there’s another time coming—a stretch where pain is a faraway memory, Hubby has gone through the procedures he needs and we are vacationing on the other side of the world, taking pictures, recording the beauty in the small notebook I keep at the bottom of my purse.

So here are the questions I am putting out into the world, the void, and God:

What is the best way to hold on until the other side unfolds?

How do I put pride aside to ask for what I need and actually accept it? (this is a particularly hard one for me as I worry about being a downer, a nuisance, and do not have family nearby).

There’s a part of me that knows I am already doing some of the right things: counseling, keeping doctor’s appointments, working and saying no when I need to. But those things don’t produce joy. And the small pockets I get it in—reading, hearing my grandmother’s voice, watching TV or going on a long drive with my husband and the very occasional outing to a friend’s—they’re good and needed. But I know my soul is crying out for more.

So this is me. Coming up for air, struggling to exercise patience and trying to answer my soul’s cry.

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