I love writing, I’d said it before, and so I looked forward to reinventing my personal blog for some time before finally going ahead with it this past spring. Things were moving along smoothly and life was good. If we took a ride, I captured in in photos and blogged it. If I discovered something new, I recorded it here. Occasionally I´d take a step back… and a gander at my blog… and considered how lucky I am. I might not be the wealthiest person, the best looking or the brightest, but for some cosmic reason I was lucky enough to be born here in the United States to wonderful parents, to marry a wonderful man and to have three healthy children. That, my friends, is true good fortune.
So this summer, when my health decided to fully embrace my age and cause me trouble, I took a step back… and out. Maybe all the blogging was bad karma? Maybe highlighting my good fortune brought me bad ¨mojo¨? And when my much anticipated summer vacation was disrupted (along with the rest of the Eastern seaboard) due to lovely Hurricane Irene, I couldn´t bring myself back to it. I was trapped in a cell where I was my own warden.
I have an uncanny ability to live within my own head, create incredibly depressing scenarios of ¨what ifs¨ and retreat to the safety of a routine. But, as I went about the business of keeping doctors´ appointments and tests I kept asking myself the big ¨what if¨. What if I was really sick and had limited time with my children. Would I want to spend it holed up and scared, or would I want to spend every moment with them and watching their little faces light up at the most ¨mundane to adults¨ moments? I chose the latter.
And so here I am again, each day closer to one or another ¨oscopy¨, believing in those people who are charged with taking care of me, and giving my all to those I am supposed to care for.
I guess I really am lucky, a little scared, but lucky.