Everyday we are turning the page. Well that is except for the few chapters we get stuck in and have a difficulty getting out of. At work I talk to people who all think their story is the worst. I have come to the conclusion it is the worst for them, as you cannot compare one story to another. It is almost as if people have away of taking a moment and making it their best or worst.
I needed to turn the page on a few chapters and found that it was not as easy as it seemed. Hanging by a thread, saying goodbye and sunk deep in the moment. It is much easier to live with life than to live with death over you.
I don't know where I want this post to go yet. The rain falling and in the mist of the autumn season, with cooler temperatures teasing us with inter and not knowing what tomorrow has to bring and yet I know I have to turn the page.
Maybe it is a mother instinct you put yourself a side and all your decisions are what are best for your children. Even as they all become grown adults there is a tendency to jump and help them before helping yourself. There was a period of time, I like to refer to as my " midlife crisis years" where I thought about all that passed me by. I felt both the heavy that comes with giving in to the freedom that came with the fight to survive. " finding myself " that is another cliché that I didn't believe in until I found my self like quicksand sinking while reaching out. The years that started in my forties and are sort of tapering down as I near ugh " the senior citizen stage/' Ok I went and said it , I am getting older but some how inside I feel much like a child.
I have let people close to me , to know me and yet kept them at a distance. There is something that has to be said for respecting your privacy. Like screaming in silence and wanting people to know and not.
I hate autumn it is a doorway to winter and winter is all about survival. I might just write about my rotten kids who are blinded to the sacrifices their mother made to ensure a quality of life, about living with a spouse who is end stage copd or maybe even what it is like to turn the page on lost love . Maybe I'll just write about the thoughts for the day, my winding down on dreams and the hopes and desires that I still find myself reaching out for.
But of all I'll write about turning the page, tearing out chapters and writing new ones. Let's start with living with a person who is always dying. If you have never stood by the bedside of a family member and had to make choices for them, this will be something new and if you have, you will read my view of it .
It wasn't like I had a good relation with my husband before he fell ill. There was a lot wrong it lacked love and as his illness progressed , responsibility and duty surfaced as a means to the day. His negativity about life and the fact that he doesn't have much time and my response to that was " We all have a number, we are all born dying" I have been at the bedside of many who had little time left. Each one putting a different spin on it. From good friends who weren't ready to go , to family that were hell bent on taking their evil thoughts with them and rarely to a few who were just ready to give in or give up. It seems though as if some people like making" their hell your hell" that is a waste of life.
Back to Copd it is a way of torture. Not having the life a person once deemed normal to feeling like you're underwater and can't come up for a breath. How does it affect the way we live and those who take care of them?I have learned to take even more responsibility than I ever imagined on. Caretaker a new title to the wife, mother, entrepreneur, etc.
Run rabbit run,
to live another day,
to challenge the seasons
and reach for the sun.
Goodbye to yesterday,
as tomorrow awaits
no control of sorrow,
it is all up to fate.
