It’s been awhile since I wrote for you and I apologize for that. The good news is I’m still here. I seriously doubted I could get out of the mess I was in, no fault of my own. Life happens.
This is not a blog about my illness, and what happened to me, but it does play a major part in my transformation. Only thing is, I’m not done yet. I remain a work in progress. In fact, I will probably send this blog post out in draft. My hands are still kind of shaky, so the very act of writing this is an act of love.
Being on Twitter and Facebook has been a revelation. After my husband died six years ago, I finished my last book “Reading Champs”, a how-to skills guide. Then instead of marketing it, I let it sit on Amazon. I started writing again, left my historic home and property in Northern Calif. to move to Eugene. Unreal, for a nester, I moved three times, volunteered, then taught at the preschool.
Family and teaching, the constants in my life. Like breathing. My passion. My gift. Servant leader for more than forty -six years.
Part of me, most of me would tell you from my heart I lost myself for the past six months. It was a life interrupted due to unexpected illness.
For months I was in my bed, listening to the crackling of the fire and the river outside. My family was taking care of me. My independence was gone. My daughter and son-in law took off work for weeks, staying up with me at night bringing me coconut water and making sure I was ok.
I thought it was enough.
I thought it was enough my teaching was interrupted.
I thought it was enough that feeling fine, treatments made me sick.
I thought it was enough that I have massive co-pays.
I thought it was enough I endured endless tests, procedures and surgeries.
I thought it was enough I could barely think and could not write.
I thought it was enough I witnessed the sorrows of life in waiting rooms.
I thought it was enough I could not focus or read a novel.
And then it happened.
When I thought I was at the finish line.
When I thought I was a survivor.
When I thought I could bear no more.
When I thought I was due for a break.
When I thought I made the right decisions.
When I thought there were no answers.
I gave up. Or close.
Now I have hope. And when all is said and done, hope is the miracle, the defining moment.
I am sure I was spared because I am not done. I know I have more to give.
I read about the unspeakable things going on in our world, but the goodness I witness every day speaks volumes about the higher natures of people.
Proud to be a survivor, acknowledging things can never be the same, sharing my journey with you is my promise kept. We truly are better together, supporting each other in the commonalities of life.
Three seasons of my journey, fall, winter and spring. I never dreamed what seemed so simple could be so darn complex, and unending.
Summer bliss, my hoped for reward for overcoming enormous obstacles yesterday, today and tomorrow, is on the way.
Thanks for making me smile, engaging in collegial conversation, sharing your stories about babies born, alpacas, peanut butter, spam, night owls, and most of all family.
Leaving footprints on your reading hearts, Rita