Here it comes. The DOWN. So I must work harder to keep afloat. Last winter seemed the best of all winters. It was the coldest in my memory. And maybe it had to do with hunkering down by the coal stove, then bundling up for the laps in the meadow that could only happen with snowshoes due to the depth of the snow. No way could one walk that path hip deep with snow. Or maybe because I had the pleasure on not having to go out to scrape off my windshield and drive hazardous roads.
And the frozen snap of trees in sub-zero temps, feeling alone but not lonely by the solid creek, as if I were an Eskimo out trapping. If I dealt with my usual winter depression, it didn’t feel as if so. But I also worked hard to maintain that OK-ness, every day, sometimes every moment.
So I need to get back to work on it, the normal every day work. Pain and medical things blew that out of the water. Moments of happiness and peace surely remain, over-riding the challenges. I remember peace on the beach, as my wool blanket encased me, warming my body chilled from fighting off disease, as others bathed on the sandy beach; yet I felt wrapped in love and warmth watching my son play with his children, my husband at my side in the shade, the medicine taking effect.
And though this last scare left me wobbling in fear and pain, the miracle of medications to treat such things is certainly a testament to the tenacity and brilliance of the human race, always moving forward, finding answers, discovering cures. Just look at a skyscraper. Humans are such wondrous creatures. But as I heal slowly, I can work once again on the everyday things, and am grateful.
I went through so much extra pain during this last episode due to my own mind-set. I had this idea in my mind of the graceful person who handles disease without a complaint. I could name one, a fellow blogger, Janet. And another, my friend Sue, who died a few years ago of cancer, with never a complaint and only a smile. I fail, and fail miserably. I am not a hero. I am not silent about pain and fear. I fall apart. But that’s OK. I am held up when I fall down by others, and am grateful.