Thursday, June 23, 2011
When we were very young, around the ages of four or five, my mom and her sisters would visit my grandmother every Friday morning. They would sit around the kitchen table and talk while my cousins and I sat on the kitchen floor and played, or fought, depending on the day and our mood. Inevitably my mother or my aunts would lead the conversation towards some topic of woe. (I spent a long time wondering what a gall bladder really was.) My grandmother would either be cooking or sewing and without missing a stich or a beat she would always have the same comment regardless. ďThis too shall pass.Ē Iím sure my mom and my aunts didnít like hearing it any more than I like my reminding myself of it today.
I consider myself to be about ninety percent positive all the time. I can usually handle what life throws at me and deal with or at least put a positive spin on it. Itís what keeps me moving forward. I mostly act like one of the twin brothers who rushed downstairs on Christmas morning only to find a large pile of horse manure. One brother slumped down dejectedly. The other raced towards the pile of manure and began throwing it up in the air. He was heard to say, ďThere has to be a pony under here somewhere.Ē
In the past eight months I have injured myself more creatively than anyone human being can quite imagine. From my wrist, to my knee to my IT Band to my quads, I have slowed down so much and have so much pain that there are days you really donít want to be around me. Iím angry and frustrated that I canít run right now. My quads are so tight that I can hardly walk. I feel like a failure, total and complete.
Most of it comes from the stress of now knowing that FEMA wonít reimburse me for any of the five grand I dropped on my lower level because my flood wasnít more than two acres. The rest of it comes from worrying about two of the kids being out of work right now. I still have minor night mares about the three flood events in April and May. Itís all created quite a perfect storm in my life.
I donít write this to vent or to garner sympathy or support. I write because this morning, when I was at my lowest, when I went to sit in the whirlpool at my gym and eased into seventy degree water, got out weighed myself and found Iíve gained ten pounds in the past three weeks, I was ready to throw in the towel. I was going to find a mountain top someplace and just spend the rest of my days cursing my fate.
So here I am sitting in front of my locker, tight as a piano wire feeling like I have let down everyone Iíve ever known, feeling like I donít have a friend in this world to talk with and I begin to cry. And with those tears comes a small beak in the clouds. I hear my grandma saying ďThis too shall pass.Ē I sit a bit longer and hear a much more reassuring voice speak to my heart. It says; ďBe still and know that I am God.Ē
Staying positive can be a bit^&. Retaining your faith often sucks really badly. It causes us to feel like we are on a roller coaster and when we look in the mirror we donít recognize ourselves at all. We feel disconnected and in a fog. Itís suddenly so silent and we canít find the map and we feel so bad inside and so frustrated that we canít find our way out. Then we hear those voices, like beacons and we pick our stuff up and move forward because deep down we do know:
This too shall pass.
Hold my hand. Iíll hold yours and somehow weíll get through all of this. I promise.