I am not really one to panic. Sure, I stress about things as much as anyone else. Maybe even more. I had considered that my event during the dog run-around-the-block incident was induced by the stuff blowing around in the air. There had been a guy with a blower whose debris seemed to get caught in my throat. So, I really didn’t think much of heading down the street for another brief run. I did need a break from it all.
I wasn’t more than a quarter mile from my home, however, when I began to feel the same feeling coming on. Panic was raging through my body and I was hungry for air. “Oh, NO,” I thought, “this can’t paralyze me.” I slowed up, but kept running. I kept telling myself that I could get through this and that it would be okay if he died when I wasn’t there. I’m more than ready for it. I think that we all are.
But something is not yet done. Something has yet to occur. So today, I pushed through the panic and made myself get away for a while.
The run was a last minute thing. The time arose and I went for it. It seemed like eternity for me to find the things that I wanted to take with me. When I finally made it out the door, I had intentions of running about 8-10 miles. But as my legs began to move, my heartrate and breathing were forced to increase, I felt unprepared for the task. It was all I could do to keep moving.
It wasn’t my best run. In fact it was a very *sucky* run. The entire time, I felt that I should just give up and walk. But I didn’t walk. Instead I ran and thought about all of the things that I had to do.
For one, I thought about YaYa having the last of the winter session’s swim lessons. I made a plan to talk with the deck supervisor to urge them to give the boy whose father is dying a stupid ribbon. I my mind, he earned it long ago.
I thought about how Tom would not be on the sidelines for my next marathon – whenever it ends up being. He might be there in spirit, but I won’t have him waiting to give me a thumbs up, or a hug, or having told the kids where to stand to be sure that they caught my picture for the “scrapbook” and, now-a-days “the blog.” I will only have his memory.
So many thoughts ran through my head. So much emotion. And the tears were held until I was safely stopped in front of the house. Then the floodgate opened and I let myself cry…again.
Another thought/request: Please, don’t pray for Tom to live on. Please only pray for peace – in him, the family, our home, and the world.