Time for Five Minute Friday, hosted by Kate Motaung. It's that cool invitation to write for five minutes - by the clock - on a keyword. (And we're also linked to Wedded Wednesday, The Weekend Brew, and Testimony Tuesday.)
Today's word is WORLD.
A terminal prognosis for your mate opens up a whole new world...not necessarily one you wanted...and brings sunset to an old one.
It's OK to mourn the life you've lost, looking into a future that's likely filled with doctor visits and medicine schedules. It doesn't sound like fun, and it's not.
There can be changes in attitude that make the process seem more like a beginning than an end.
I'll explain this from my point of view, rather than trying to put it in the third person. In the comments, let me know what you think of that, OK?
I see life in more vivid colors now. Yesterday and today (June 10 and 11, 2015) were two of the most painful I've experienced, and I just didn't know how to cope. It was kind of like being cut in half, just below the ribs, while having a coronary.
Worse than being shot in the back.
Worse than being hit with a golf ball, full force from twenty yards, right in the balls.
Worse than going over a jump on a horse, losing my seat, and landing on the pommel.
I have to carefully work and move and even talk around the pain, with a sort of exaggerated care that's not only physical, it's also spiritual.
This pain is a sort of epiphany. It makes me want to be a better, and kinder person. It makes me want to love on a higher plane.
It's so bad right now that there's no energy for a Why Me, nothing to spare for anger or resentment.
And I just want to be the best version of myself. Not because I feel I might die tonight (that's not impossible).
It's because I want to live.
I see life in more vivid colors.
The color of death, and the color of life.
The color of mercy
The color of forgiveness.
The color of Grace.