I’m thinking of loss. Something we tend to shy away from, but that
needs to be acknowledged. I’m also thinking that optimism, and hope are often conscious
choices we have to make. It’s easy to feel hopeful and optimistic when life is
going well, not so much when life is full of struggle.
I find myself thinking of the profound loss I ended up having as a
result of getting sick 9 years ago. I think about all the collective loss we’ve
had as a nation in 2020. The president has, for the most part, ignored the 300,000+
deaths. People fighting for their lives in hospitals, even as I write this. I
think about my mom dying in October of this year – not of COVID, but prevented
from seeing her in her last days (spent in a hospital for 2 weeks) because of
COVID.
I think about the uncertainty that lies ahead – immediately in
terms of what the president will do, in his last few weeks – and also in the
months to come. I DO feel true hope, knowing that President-Elect Biden and Vice
President-Elect Harris will be sworn in.
I don’t know what my normal will be in 2021, but I suspect it will
evolve. I will give myself time and space to continue to grieve for my mom, and
get used to her absence. I will continue to – because I MUST – find my way, even
as I will always have reminders of the losses my invisible disorders caused. Loss
is hard. It is draining, and can be all encompassing. But in all the times I’ve
let myself grieve, I remind myself, I’ve ALWAYS gotten through to the other
side of the moment. Hurting is hard, but it’s also how we know happiness, and
love.
Each day there is a choice. A choice to try to find goodness in
life, or to focus on that which is not. To meet responsibilities, and to find
joy. Contentment. It’s difficult, but it’s also very necessary. I keep moving
because my mom would want me to. I keep moving because in the end, I want to
feel good about what I have to look back on, even as simply as at the end of
each day.
My mom and I shared a love of flowers.
