Half of the story

Blogging is a tool, any many ways, that I use to get the best and worst of my feelings vented. My regular readers are a different sort of friend who will let me complain and perhaps offer a few words of encouragement too. If you blog, you understand what I am talking about.

My siblings are not bloggers and, mostly, they don’t read my blog. But when I wasn’t calling everyone back, but rather was giving updates to a few central people and instructing them to pass it on, drastic measures were in order – I guess. It’s really hard to call everyone back. It is even harder to tell the story over and over, to answer the questions, and hear the advice. But everyone means well, and really just wants to help.

Carol did her best to give the update to my brother and sister, but she wasn’t sure that she understood everything correctly. My Mom, then, suggested that my siblings read my blog. My first thought, when I saw the emails on this suggestion the following day, was surprise. Did they really think that I would put it on the blog and not yet not tell them?!

Needless to say, they were hit with the bombshell produced by one of my emotional lows during this experience. Linda called to say that she was so sad that I was feeling so devastated and lost. At times, that is exactly how I feel. Other times, I just do what I need to do and am fairly okay.

I have to tell you all, that there will NOT be a full disclosure of my situation here on the blog; honestly I never have put it ALL out there for you to read. I will let you know just enough to understand the shift in my running, and writing. I can’t tell you how much of my experience will be poured out on the pages for all to read. I just don’t know.

I will tell you that my BQ is no longer the goal for this year. I may not even run a marathon this year. But I will keep running when I am able to. As you know, my running is what helps me release the feelings of dread. It also helps me to be thankful for what I have TODAY.

As you may have guessed, it is my husband that is ill. The pain in his neck and shoulders turned out to be worse than I had imagined. It wasn’t the heart attack after all, but it appears to be very serious. He was hospitalized for several days. During his stay in the hospital, DD and I spent most of the day with him. In the night, we would take turns breaking the visiting hours policy to sit by his side.

In the night, when I was all alone, waiting for DD to return home, I felt so empty and alone. The intensity was shocking. It hit me like when my children were born, and I realize that I had a capacity for love far greater than I ever imagined. Who knew that I loved this man *this* much? I knew that I loved him, but this surprised even me. I would cry all the way to the hospital as the thoughts of possibly losing him came into my mind.

In the wee hours of the night we would talk. What if this was the end? He gave suggestions for developing the best possible relationship with each our kids, and talked about what they might need in the future. And as for the unknown period of time with him, be it 1 year or 10, he talked of it as if it was a gift – if he had been in a car accident and died, we wouldn’t have this time. We embraced eachother, holding on for as long as we are able. If I allow myself to get past the fear of losing him, and past the questioning of why did is this happening to him/us, I can give thanks for today and for my ever-loving husband.