This blog post has been weighing on my mind for months. I keep wanting to write it…but I just can’t find the right words. Today I decided I’d probably feel a lot better if I just get it done and have these annoying feelings to write go away.
You’ve obviously noticed that there has been NOTHING going on here for a while. And well…there’s been nothing going on HERE either. I’ve been on complete bedrest since April. Not from Doctor’s orders, but from an inability to get out without major pain. It’s been downhill. How much further downhill can it go? I’m through the crust and seeing mantle now. (thank you Science channel for keeping my brain stimulated. Go nerd shows!)
It’s been a challenge. But okay. My doctors are amazing. And I have great care. My friends have been great. My family is the best on this planet. We have an amazing nanny now..who comes to play with my kids. And I have the most AMAZING husband in the world.
But recently, when we found out I would need another major surgery. It was hard. I kinda figured that’s where we were headed. It’s the last surgery available. And it’s last the WORST of all the game. That’s why they use it as a last resort. It’s not pretty. I’m so scared.
Talking to my Mom she said, “where is the light at the end of the tunnel? If we just knew how much more we have to take…we could do it.” True. If I knew…6 more months and it’s over. I could deal.
Don’t you feel that way sometimes? Where is the light at the end of the tunnel? And you’re just looking, and looking for it. “C’mon…I’ve been told it’s there.” Well for a train. There is one. And I’ve heard when you die there is one. But I think I need to stop looking for the light at the end of the tunnel. Unless I want to die, and I don’t.
Sound dire? It’s not. Wait.
I’ve been thinking…life IS a tunnel. If you want to put it in terms of you’re born…you live…you see a light…it’s over. But THIS LIFE. Life on this earth is a cave. A dark one. There’s shadows everywhere. And it’s scary. And you hear sounds that you can’t quite place. And if you stay in there trying to find your way around in the dark you’re gonna be sad. ‘Cause there ain’t no out. It just gets deeper and darker.
If you wanna…you can sit down and cry. Or if you want to you can wander around in the dark hoping you don’t run into a bear or something. Or….
I can take a lantern in there with me. Something to light my way. Something to help me see what’s coming. If I have to be stuck in a cave for a while….might as well look around. I might find cool crystal walls. And beautiful flowing waterfalls. It might be gorgeous in there. And I’ll cruise around having a grand time.
And then I keep walking…and there’s an area of stalactites and stalagmites all around that are a BITCH to navigate through. (Sorry I just had to say it…because I have been navigating that part of the cave for a while and it’s not that fun.)
Having a lantern sure helps. It’s my choice to bring it. It’s my choice if I use it. It might be super bright sometimes…and it might dim other times. Sometimes I might need to borrow some batteries for my lantern from a friend who has extras.
Sometimes, if I stop and really look at those stalactites and stalagmites they have a certain beauty to them. Walking around them might make my legs stronger.
I know we’re often told to keep an “eternal” perspective. And that’s great. But I’m here with no end. And until I die that’s just a fact. It doesn’t bring my Dad back. It doesn’t keep my preemie out of the NICU. It doesn’t keep my friend’s son from getting cancer. And I just don’t think that the idea of “well, when I die this will all go away.” Is the way I wanna go right now. I’ll keep it in my back pocket. ‘Cause I know it’s there.
But I want to focus on my happiness NOW. And no one can bring that lantern but me. I have to carry it. I have to decide to use it. I have to choose if I can navigate the cave or not. Granted, I can follow someone else’s light for a minute. But it’s kinda a “go at your own pace cave.”
So here I am. Ready to head into a part with MASSIVE stalactites and stalagmites. I can even see them coming this time. (they’ll show up on June 23. No, I’m not Nostradamus I have an appointment. (stop. Did you catch that Nostradamus reference? History Channel baby!) I have my lantern in hand, and I’m hoping that I’ll hold on to it. If I drop it…I’ll have to go back and find it. Which I’ve done before. It’s no fun. But it’s doable.
I hope you have a lantern with you. If not, borrow some of my batteries. I have a few extras. Find your happy place. Or at least be in the light while you go through a hard time. The pretty part of the cave will come back…if you keep going.