On the other side of the computer from you, I sit.
And I choose what to write about and send out in to this unending sphere of words. I prefer to write about every day events. The little things I want to focus on. The little things I don’t want to let escape. The positive things I want to recycle. And some things that are bigger than others.
I’m very aware that life is full of variables. Not everything feels good.
Not everything is positive.
But everything is something I want to learn from. And experience – fully.
It’s been difficult to focus on words recently. Because here, on this side of the computer, I am exhausted.
Life does that sometimes. It takes every thing you have and demands even more from you.
On this side of the computer life is emotional. I have spent over two weeks watching my husband and his siblings circle around. As they watch over a brother. It’s literally all they can do – most moments.
And it is physically and emotionally draining to only be able to stand, or sit, and watch.
It is difficult to watch when you physically want to fix.
You want to do something to make him wake up. To make him get up. To make him join life. It is exhausting fighting the physical twitch and burn – to do – and instead just make yourself sit still.
And just be.
Watch over him. And be helpless.
For almost three weeks now we have accepted exhaustion as part of our condition. And stillness as part of our being. Hearts hurt from love. Butts hurt from sitting. Muscles ache to do something.
In all of this, I have looked for and found, positive.
In all of this there are no answers. But there is hope.
In not knowing what the future holds, there is laughter and exasperation in what they shared with him to this point. And there is life in the re-sharing of it.
In the seriousness of the hospital setting there are siblings, family and friends laughing-so he can hear it. And there is help from one to another to get through.
In the time spent together there is time for discussions, where time for these discussions didn’t exist before. People talk. People listen. People hear.
While sitting and watching there is compassion for one another and new understandings formed.
In the over flow to the waiting rooms because there is family-a-plenty, relationships are strengthened. Or begun.
And there is something oddly funny and comforting about the differences and arguments that are normal to the family, even in this setting.
I want to recycle all of the positive experiences of this difficult time. I want to save them for when he wakes up. So he knows what part he played in the positive atmosphere he was here for.
I know there are ‘ifs’ to consider.
But right now, on this side of the computer, I choose to focus on the positive. The hope that is. And amp up for whatever life demands of me, us, next.
I hope you find a positive today. And every day.
Even if you have to look through the difficult, to find it. Even if you have to choose to acknowledge it’s existence.