He Helped me Answer my Own Question

     I wrote about this day many months ago waiting for one of my children to be released from practice.  I stored it in a notebook I carried with me to write down my random thoughts.  Several months ago, I tore it out of my notebook and discarded it, knowing I would not share this experience for fear of what others would think.  Fear of others rejecting the brilliant hour that turned my torture into something else.  Something that changed my perspective and eased the hurt from that deep bruise that was imprinted into my heart since December 29th. 

     Three months I had been lying in a hospital bed in my living room with the same question running into and invading every thought I had.   It wasn't even a conscious question at this point, I couldn't control its interference in my life.  I visioned it as someone terribly annoying poking me in the shoulder every half second, not stopping when asked.  " Am I going to be okay?" it vibrated fiercely . 

      Each day for three months I spent my days with this question alternating with my body begging me to stop the pain.  "AM I going to be okay?" *PAIN!* "Am I GOING to be okay?" *PAIN!* "AM I GOING TO BE OKAY?!" ***PAAAAINN!***  No rest, no reprieve. It was maddening!

     A weekday afternoon as I lie in that bed, I grew weary of watching tv.  I cannot focus enough to read, it is painful to write, I tire of my own thoughts.  Closing my eyes, I drift to some meditative state.  Still hearing voices from the television, still knowing my surroundings, that blasted question even intrudes my thoughts here.  For Gods sake, just leave me alone for a bit. 

     Sensations.  Odd sensations come over me.  I am smiling.  With my eyes still closed, a big easy smile spreads across my face.  I don't understand it but I love it, I want more.  A feeling slowly washes over by body. I had been cloaked with a calmness and it swaddled me as a mother swaddles her infant.  

     Peace.  It was splendid peace, warming my body, mind and spirit.  With a trust so unbelievably complete, I knew the answer to my unending inquiry.  Yes.  Even if I do not walk well or ever again,  I will be just fine.  If that means living life in a wheelchair, I will be just fine.  Our girls and I had survived and that is all that I cared about.  Vivid, clear thoughts were mine.  Heaviness lifted its weight from my heart and it began beating again in earnest.

     My world inside of our home stopped as if Mother Nature had stopped time, except for myself.  I was in a whirl wind, everything around me was blurring as my mind whipped with comprehension, with awe, with disbelief.  He wasn't here with me, I did not hear him say the words, but he let me feel my answer.  He was allowed to let me know I was going to be okay.  He was allowed to let me feel peace.  It was him, the man who hit me. 

     I sat up in bed, overcome with emotion and exploded into tears, heart wrenching tears as I held my head in my hands.  I sobbed submissively, "I'm so sorry." "I'm so sorry you died."  " I'm sorry you died and I did not, I don't know why, I'm sorry."   I could not picture his face because I did not know what he looked like.  I did not know his life or personality, but I felt his heart this day.  It felt like this was a way that God let him help the person he caused so much pain for.  He was sorry.   

     He was finally at peace.  I don't know what that meant, but I knew it as well as I knew my own name. 

     It was the first time I had addressed him.  Acknowledged that he had changed my life.  Now he had changed it twice in a matter of three short months.  I know the reality. I know the explanations and excuses of everything else that this can be.  I was dreaming, it was effects of the pain medications I was ingesting, it was my own mind wanting something so badly that I imagined it.  

     But what does it really matter?  I had found what I had been searching for.  My spirit was at ease.  That question no longer haunted me.  I don't care what it was, I loved what it did for me.  I choose to believe because it grants me peace, courage and composure.  I choose to believe.

     I do not wish this pain or these struggles to be in my life.  I wish I could learn these lessons in a less tragic way, but this is my path now.  My journey.  God does not leave you on Earth without a reason.  I have asked him a few thousand times what am I supposed to do for him, what is my reason for being saved because when I look at my car, at the scene, it does not look as if anyone should have survived that.  

     I have heard his silent wishes and this past week, in a room full of three hundred plus people, I finally accepted.  I smirked as I said, "Well you ornery son of a gun." HE says, " Do the thing that you have been most afraid of your entire life." 

 Speak. Up. 

Acceptance is the Key to my Happiness

I Can't?

     The absurdity of the words, "I can't walk", emanating from myself felt foreign.  Rarely have I ever spoken words of that nature.  Not being able to stomach that phrase, it soon became,

 "I can't yet"

  

   Teaming with two surgeons, I began a quest of moving forward with a philosophy of "Let's see how much of my life I can get back."  It has been a long road to my best recovery from that car collision. We are just a month shy of four years since our world has been rocked.  Four years of frustration, tears, lost memories, living in slow motion and sheer joy at the most trivial advancements. That brings us to the splitting of tracks.  I have envisioned myself the small but mighty engine that may not be able to pull the largest of loads anymore, I may have to be more creative about which route I must take, but I am persistent and always make it to my next station.  

     My upcoming visit with my surgeon in December should be my release into the real world.  Providing all goes well, I am free of surgeries and free to live as I want to live until the day arrives that "I can't" anymore.  Enthusiasm envelops me at the thought that no one but myself has authority to tell me what I can and cannot physically do.  The other side of the sword is that this truly means I am at my peak.  There is no getting better anymore and that is all that it has been for four years.  This is as good as it gets.  I have worked hard and my family and I have practiced extreme patience with my trials and I believe we are all proud to have this moment upon us.  But this means, I must now accept that this is where I will stay.  So I must swallow those bitter words of "I can't" and accept that there are some physical activities that I just will not be able to achieve.  

     Entering into a small shop I chose a gift for my daughter.  Walking into a back room, the owner wrapped that gift with care as she asked, "Carey, how do you do it?"  "What is that exactly?" I inquired.  "When you have tried everything you know how to do and you know you will not get any better", she spoke.  Thankful that her glance was cast down as my eyes darted to her face, I felt my lips part in astonishment.  Did she know?  How could she know?  Tears sting my eyes as I perceive that it was a honest inquiry and that she has no idea that question has been slowing invading my thoughts as I near the end of my own recovery.  She was speaking of her own trials. 

      As my emotions released their hold on the lump they had placed in my throat, I admonished,   "When I know that I have done all that I can do, that I have put one hundred percent into the effort and feel proud of that effort, then I accept.  Actually, acceptance is the key to my happiness." 

     Hearing my own words, I softly smiled.  I also smirked at God because He knows I now listen.  He has a way of working through people.  This shop owner helped me take my own advice that day and maybe my words helped her through the next step of her own journey.  She does not know how that short visit affected me or that it nudged me out of that rut of vulnerability.  

     Recovery is as much mental as it is a physical.   My husband has cited a pledge to me many times over our almost ten year liaison, especially this last four.  A great friend passed it to him, he has passed it to me and I will pass it to you.  I altered it a bit to tailor to my situation, but in the end we receive the same message. 

Acceptance is the key to my happiness.  When I am disturbed, it is because I find -- some fact of my life -- unacceptable to me, and I can find no happiness until I accept that situation as being 

exactly the way it is supposed to be at this moment.

Nothing, absolutely nothing happens in God's world by mistake.  

 I must accept life completely on life's terms or I cannot be happy. I need to concentrate not so much on what needs to be changed in the world as on what needs to be changed in 

me and in my attitudes.

   My happiness does not hinge on what was thrust upon me.  My happiness does not hinge on my ability to walk.  My happiness clings onto my attitude, that if I cannot change my circumstances then, I make peace with it by accepting that this is how life is supposed to be a this moment.

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Motivation: A few Simple Words can say Everything

      How did I decide on the title for my blog, Stronger than Yesterday?

     Short Version:  these were the only words I could quote to myself for a year after my unfortunate collision.

     Long Version:   I invariably envisioned myself as a good sympathizer, yet there are some things a person must experience for themselves to understand the full impact of complete devastation.

     Things that make you hurt in places you didn't know you had.

     It is true that the grieving process begins to lessen after that first year.  That is, if you grab on tight & make a decision that you are going to live instead of letting that hurt control you.

     Many times I could only concentrate on hours at a time, over a period, those hours became full days.  The same question berating my conscious moment after moment.  "Am I going to be Okay"?   I don't recall purposely asking this, yet it managed to work it's way into my thoughts constantly.  I spoke with God each day, never asking why, only asking that same boomerang question.  Once shouting, "Say Something"!   I collected myself and accepted authority of my life.

     I disagree that God wants you to let it all be in His hands.  He gave me a swift kick in the pants.   All I had to do was shut up and let Him talk.  I chose to listen and save myself.  

     Today as I sip my flavored hot coffee, staring at my lit Christmas tree from top to bottom, I recognize that this will be the third holiday season that I will not be able to walk due to surgeries.

     As my eyes travel down the tree, they stop at the memories hanging on branches.   I smile.  It just doesn't matter.    I am here to add more precious memories to our tree with my family.  I survived, I fought, I didn't give up.

     Life should  be simple, yet sometimes we let it be hard.  It may be the only thing you can say on some days, but it is enough.  If we keep trying, then we are Stronger than Yesterday.

                                     From start to now!  Who knew I would be able to raft?

 

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