In an often fast-paced world, there are times when we must stop the clock. It’s not by choice but by life that we must do it. I’ve been trying to muddle through a week where there is no muddling through. We lost a family matriarch - my husband’s mother - on Sunday.
When someone has had a lengthy illness, the realization comes that you have already gone through much of the process of losing them. There is a continuous flow of adrenaline in averting or addressing the next health scare. Waiting for the call to come and not knowing what the call will be. There is the struggle to sustain a balance between crisis and care, work and play, duty and devotion, energy and exhaustion, and having those around you understand that this is not the ‘normal’ path you are used to walking. It’s a bit like tossing a dart at the board, on any given day, and figuring out where you’ll land. It’s an understanding that we don’t have all of the answers, the ability to define our expectations for others, much less, for ourselves.
There are many people who have walked this path, before, and others who are just taking their first steps on the journey. As much as we might like to make it a sprint or a run so as to not feel the effects too deeply, there will be moments where our feet will be weighed to the ground, where every bump in the road and every stumble will remind us that this is also a part of living.
For these moments, we stand still in time - so we’ll remember.
Everything changed the day he figured out there was exactly enough time for the important things in his life.
~ Brian Andreas, Storypeople