Reaching for the sunlight
Where have I been?
Time is such a rascal. One moment, I had a plan, a rhythm, a playful creativity, and the next, POOF! I am staring at the calendar that says 2025. How did I let go of my writing? Or did I?
If I step back and look for explanations, I can quickly and truthfully say my role as my husband’s caregiver has become the matrix of my everyday life. And while I miss the man he was with a painful yearning, I am so, so, SO happy we are still figuring it out. Together.
But my halo has tarnish on it. There are days I am frustrated to tears and feel my outlets for relief are limited. I know it is not his fault that the stroke swept away many of his memories and damaged his reactions. I do.
And yet.
It can be overwhelming. *
The trippy thing is the contrast. He is still sweet. He still makes me laugh. He does try to help out even though it ultimately makes more work for me. He reaches for my hand and expresses his love countless times throughout the day. He’ll look into my eyes in moments of clarity and say, “This is not the life I meant for you. It’s not fair, and I’m sorry.”
It is then that I know how lucky I am.
I love.
I am loved.
Circumstances change. Our love has not wavered.
So, did I “let go” of my writing or write myself into this complicated, incredible, whiplash-fueled love story?
Time, that rascal, will tell.
*As an introvert, I do NOT like to ask for help. My core belief is that the hard times pass, and lessons are learned. I profoundly appreciate our family and friends who check in and let us know they are there. That support means everything!
