Monday, September 15, 2014

forever days...

dear tired soul.

i know.  the forever days.  i feel your weariness.  i see the strain in your eyes & posture. slouched as if you have that 50 lbs. bag of pig feed resting uncomfortable on your shoulder. you walk the stairs back up to the lobby.  sign out while dropping the key fob on the counter for the receptionist.  the automatic doors part as the high noon september heat overwhelms you.  the commute back home to your other life is a blur because those forever tears cloud your vision.

remember the forever days of elementary school?  you sat in class listening to your teacher spout facts-details-data that only sounded like the nagging "wah-waaah-wah-wah" of charlie brown's teacher.  you heard all of her words but your immature mind could not filter out and organize that which was of utmost importance.  you felt lost in a world of nonsensical education just as today your mind struggles to swim in the tidal wave of crazy-making behaviors displayed by so many residence.  the one constantly yelling for jojo and carlos.  or her in the wheelchair with her harsh demands of when cheryl is going to arrive. or him, retired war veteran, chastising pjm for "touching my God damn water glass-and why the hell does he take it every God damn day".  the barrage of harsh voices distracts you from your one true purpose…visiting pjm.

remember the forever days of a new babe?  you returned home from the hospital, sore and saggy with a new soul in tow. bottle. diaper. swaddle. rock. repeat.  as the nervous newborn energy dissipated, it quickly became a season of broken sleep leaving you weary, each passing day affirming you would never sleep an uninterrupted seven hours again.  but babes do grow-mature-transition.  death follows a continuum as well.  it seems you will always be in this phase of watching him die, but this is a fight he will eventually lose and this season will end just like sleepless nights & 2:00 am feedings.

remember the forever days of marathon running?  you woke at 4:15 am.  arrived at the race site.  and waited…race mornings were always full of wait.  the line into the parking lot.  the line for the bus.  the line for the outhouse.  the starting line. and the longest wait of all, that finishing line.  navigating the first 13 miles felt natural, but the second 13 were not only physically taxing but mentally daunting.  your body & the majority of your mind screamed to stop-halt-or at the very least walk.  but those few atoms in your brain spoke louder.  your mental tenacity continued to project your body forward. refusing to walk. and remember those fellow runners? you were never alone in the race.  and the spectators cheering you on? their shouts boosting your spirits.  and countless volunteers handing you water and otter pops?  every ounce fueling you to reach the journey's end called the finish line.  you are correct weary one.  you must run these miles.  no once can do it for you; but family & friends, nurses & caregivers willingly hand you cups of grace along this journey. each encouraging you to press on while you and pjm run these last few miles of his life.

yes, visiting days feel like forever days.  but remember those other seasons you mastered, overcame or just plain outlasted.  he cannot live sick forever.  life & death are mysterious. i, too, don't know how a body can press on even when its very own mind has forgotten how to do so much. but i know this: suffering, his & yours, are temporary.

and remember, sweet friend, when forever overwhelms, pray.  and drive home safe.  and eat a healthy lunch.  and take a nap.  it is okay if you have nothing productive to show for your day.  you are a reflection of Christ in your undying love for husband and that is enough.

press on,
forever yours.

1 comment:

  1. Chris you are so strong and so inspiring. May The Lord hold you always close to Him XO