The Normal Life

If I close my eyes, I think of what a wonderful life I’ve been blessed with. You see, the last few months have been unusually difficult. I keep waiting for the storm clouds to disintegrate and the warm, blue, sunny skies of a normal life to take over. I’m beginning to think that day may never get here, or may never arrive at all.

Six months ago, I lost my beautiful, vibrant and brilliant best friend, my mom. She and I had differences from time to time, but what child doesn’t? We always worked them out.

Just after mom died, dad was misdiagnosed with cancer. Luckily for all of us, he had an abscess that looked like cancer. He healed well with antibiotics. When that was through, dad had a very important eye surgery. He is now able to see where he could not before surgery.

And then there is me. I have been sick since March, Easter week to be precise. I’m still sick, but hoping and praying that the end is near. I’m tired. I’m so tired of the pain. I’m tired of just feeling sort of alright. I am tired of my house and relying on others. I’m tired of new problems cropping up. I’m just so tired.

So when I close my eyes, I imagine myself free from pain, free from my house, usually swimming or running or playing like I did as a kid. I see myself able to focus on life for more than 5 minutes. I want to run outside and play with my kids. I want to take my dogs on a walk. I just want to relish my normal life. The same life I took for granted. I will never take it for granted again. That is a promise after this ordeal.

My home is a sanctuary to me, but now it’s become my prison. It’s become the place I wish I wasn’t. I’m trapped. I can’t enjoy my summer because of how I feel. I couldn’t go swimming, my favorite thing to do, because I have a drain in my belly.

The summer will be over and still won’t be back at the job I love because of this, or so I fear. Will I ever heal? I will, eventually. Right now, though, it’s so difficult. I’ll keep my eyes closed and keep dreaming, perhaps. I’ll dream of ordinary and how in love and miss ordinary.

13 thoughts on “The Normal Life

  1. Funny how things turn out. There are many out there who dream about the extraordinary and yet there are people like you who dream of the ordinary. An eloquent piece. I hope you heal soon.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. I know you’ve had really awful health issues recently and I so very hope that you heal quickly and that life gets back to normal for you. When we’re home on purpose, it’s so different from when we’re stuck at home, not well enough to work or do the things we love. Here’s to remembering to never take life for granted. And even more that you feel better SOON. (also how horrifying to have an abscess misdiagnosed as cancer but PHEW!!!)

    Liked by 1 person

  3. Oh no! I didn’t realize you still had a drain in too. Sending you love and a prayer. You have so much to look forward to when you’re back on your feet. Meanwhile, keep writing. When you’re up to it – maybe try the daily word press? It might give you something fun to do? Kids must be home, so at least you have some company. {hugs} Laurie

    Liked by 1 person

  4. This reminds me of when I was twelve. I was sick all the time and was diagnosed, right before Easter, with kidney failure. I had a abdominal catheter. I couldn’t go swimming. I was scared I would never feel okay again. Some pain continues, but there’s always hope, even if we can’t see it, eyes opened or closed. It is so hard when everything seems to go wrong. I hope you can find ways to still enjoy parts of your summer, with your children, and the parent you still have, but losing your mother is an emotional pain, on top of the physical I am sure. Thanks for sharing this and joining in with the prompt this week.

    Liked by 1 person

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s