Can you believe that it is nearly the end of February? One year ago, I found myself in the emergency room (ER) with my husband. I was fearful that his shoulder pain was some sort of abnormal presentation of a heart attack. He had some x-rays done, and we were sent home with instructions to follow up with his primary care physician. Where has the time gone?
That night, I feared that he was having a heart attack. I cursed his job for making him work so hard. I cursed him for not saying no to being overworked. I cursed myself for not being a strong enough force to make him change. Little did I know that a heart attack would have been like a blister is to a gangrenous foot. There’s no going back and re-doing our life. His is gone; we try to move on.
It’s now one year later, and I am still trying to comprehend what has happened to my life. My children keep me busy; they give me purpose (too much at times). I have no choice but to plod along. But I don’t forget. It feels like we are going through it all over again. I remember the chain of events, the questions, the waiting…just like it was yesterday.
More and more I feel the need to move forward and make some sense out of my life again. I need to help my children to do the same. Try as I might, it is hard to put the past behind me. Perhaps I’ll have better luck if I swallow something, other than my pride. I am open to anything at this point. Meanwhile, time keeps on ticking.