Today we're linked with Messy Marriage's Wedded Wednesday - check it out for some great links to posts on marriage, and life!
No secret that I've lost a lot of ground over the past week or so; pain has taken on a new and particularly virulent quality, and no amount of posturing can get one through the fact that some things are very hard to bear. And some things cannot be borne. It's sobering.
Nonetheless, I have today, I have this moment in order to choose to do something constructive.
So, as a caregiver, do you.
The road ahead may be very dark, and unpleasant, and even frightening. But try not to look that far ahead.
God made the world round for a reason, that we might have a horizon, something we couldn't see past.
Look at what's around you now, and try to live in this moment. Don;'t think about blood chemistry or MRIs or the meeting with the oncologist next week.
Concentrate on the pleasant things around you - the kids playing down the street, the hummingbird at the feeder, the way the sunrays slant through the clouds. Make these small vacations, and fold them into your heart, for visiting later.
Take a few minutes to enjoy a coffee and a doughnut and a good book. Step out of your reality. It'll be waiting when you get back, believe me.
If your spouse isn't on board with that, if he or she is worried and depressed and needy...
Do it anyway.
The primary rule in lifesaving is not to get pulled under, yourself, by a drowning swimmer. You can only help if you're free to do so, and not enmeshed in someone else's struggles.
Even if that someone is your husband, or wife.
And sometimes, you can't help at all, and being pulled under becomes a futile act of solidarity, a sacrifice that may look noble in the moment, but destroys the potential good you could have accomplished.
Sometimes, you've got to swim away, out of reach of those flailing arms, because your life, your happiness is worth something.
It's not cruel, although you may be called cruel, for smiling when your dying mate is in the depths of despair.
It's not heartless, though you may be called heartless for enjoying a cup of coffee while your beloved is on an IV.
It's simply the realization that this is your today, and that you don't have to throw it away.
You can stand by someone's side, ready to help, and you can still smile.
That smile will make you stronger.