Well if I am honest this is another one of my ugly posts. Sure I have the pretty pictures I could post of the goodness that has been happening in my life. Maybe some of you all have seen them. They are me trying to get about living.
I made promises to myself and God, and the universe that should life be handled to me again and look somewhat similar to what it was I would live more. Much of my guy's life and my own has been in pursuit of something. College degrees, children, jobs, better homes, better marriage, better health. So much pursuit along the way we forgot to live and enjoy the spoils of our pursuits.
As well, my marriage was so comfortable. Come this week we will celebrate 17 years together. I met the love of my life seventeen years ago and have never regretted a day since. Before TN struck I found myself aggravated by little things that I thought meant so much and now I realize mean so little.
He is here, he is getting better and I need to kiss him more, love him more and be a better wife. But it appears I am stuck. I want this beautiful living life but I can't get over it. But mostly because I have no patience. Each day gets better and he seems to get more back to normal.
But at night alone in my bed I realize he won't be normal the way I knew normal. That I won't be normal that way. That normal doesn't exist. We build new normals and we build on what we have. But I guess I am grieving that life. And in the process of that grieving I am passing up these beautiful moments that are happening.
I am trying really hard to get over it. The seeing him like that. The fear of the pain. The recovery that hasn't been perfect. The ability that I can push fast forward through the rough stuff and the inability to know what happens next.
I know I will get there and I know every day is a step closer. The process of recovery is so much more than sutures on the skin. It is the heart hurt. The fear of the unknown. Reliving him in pain. Seeing him smile and feeling like it could be okay. The ability to cook all his favorites again. Seeing him read books to our girls again. We are getting there.
Life is messy. It is complicated and messy. But the beauty is in his hand. In his smile. In his kiss. In our future.