That's what I love about Amy, otherwise known as little Amy. She is real and she is genuine. And I love that about her. She is right, I have struggled lately. And sometimes in the quiet of the night, I cry. I cry for a lot of reasons but lately, it is has been because in those quiet moments before sleep calms me, I am alone. I have been alone for a very long time and dealt with sadness before but this is different. This is about me and the insecurities and concerns unique to waging the war against cancer. I don't look like myself in the mirror anymore and the reality of what that means is sinking into the places where denial has lost its momentum. And I can't help but wonder if this could be easier if the arms of a spouse could remind me every night that I will be okay. I know that with every loss, acceptance eventually comes but in the meantime, I am at a loss as to how to recognize myself when I look in the mirror.
My office is fairly close to my home. Friday morning I woke up with enthusiasm and an energy that has become foreign to me. So, I decided to walk to work. The air was crisp and cool and as I plugged in my iPod, the music set my mood and I looked forward to the exercise. I stopped at the bank and felt unusually cheerful as I waited for my turn to come. My enthusiasm did not wane until I was securely in my office awaiting my first client. I met with a few clients, tackled some paperwork and looked forward to the walk home. When I stood to leave, my legs were shaking with fatigue and my stamina seemed to melt into the floor. I felt the excuberence of the morning leave as I called a friend to drive me home. The weekend seemed to follow suite. The sores in my mouth and throat left the privacy of my mouth and moved to a more public view on my face. The image looking back at me the next morning reminded me more of an adolesent boy than the grown woman I had seen the morning before. And so it hit me..life as I have known it is officially on hold for what feels like another lifetime. And so, I cried this weekend.
I know that this is part of the process of this physical and emotional rollercoaster ride I am currently on. I also know that I am a pro at rollercoaster rides. I know that there will be times when nothing can deter me from the faith and hope in my heart and I know there will be other times when I will be curled up in a ball crying (as only lil Amy can do) 'I don't feel good..' That's normal right?
There is advice engrained in me by my father which I have passed on to my children. I'd like to share it with you. When you are tired,and it's dark outside it is never the right time to make a decision. When the morning comes and the light resumes it's purpose, you will make an entirely different decision. So, when discouragement, fear, or hard decisions creep into the 'think time' right before sleep rescues you...remind yourself that it is dark outside and and that you are tired. And let things go for a few hours. Wait until dawn can shed some more light on it.
I echo the gratitude expressed by Amy. The outpouring and evidence of love and support is keeping myself and my children positive and hopeful. I could not do this without the unique love and prayers of each of you. From the bottom of my heart...
Gratitude and love always..Cyndi
Things are always worse at night:). I can't count how many times I've heard or said that phrase.
ReplyDeleteI loved this! I know now that you are human and not super woman! ;) I'm happy that you are crying and I know that sounds weird but you need to, I think that may be the healthiest thing you can do through this process!
ReplyDeleteI also needed to hear your motherly speech about things being worse at night. I have had a pretty bad night and I found myself dwelling on silly things until I read this post. You inspire me Cyndi and as I have said before, in your time of need and pain you continue to help so many others.
You are beautiful! I know you don't want to hear that right now or believe it, but you are!