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Waking From a Long Slumber
Mar. 9th, 2021 06:15 pmThe weather has been mostly good for three weeks now and I find myself slowly being roused after a year of falling inward. Three significant life road signs came and went with little fanfare as I tried to navigate a new world rife with adversity. I do not believe it is possible to go back, that I will never get back to what was before. Instead, a new normal is setting in that I must find a way to preserver through.
To gauge how powerful an experience these last twelve months have been I would like to highlight those road signs that came and went. This time last year I turned forty, normally this is seen as milestone to midlife. A walking through a door into greater stability after many lessons learned in youth. For me, my 40th birthday rang out like a death knell for what was before. My birthday was a joyous time of friends, loved ones, and preferred activities. It seems like it occurred a lifetime ago. I have a hard time even picturing the person I was then.
Through it all, my wife was with me as we forged ahead as best we could. In the depths of the first lock-downs last summer we passed the road sign that was our one year anniversary of marriage. It was impossible to celebrate in any kind of real way, but we did what we could. She looks forward to our second anniversary this coming summer as a sort of do-over. I wish I could marshal the hope and positivity she still has, but its just not in me after hoping for a year that some kind of reprieve was in sight. So far no reprieve has come over the horizon and I am all out of hope at this point.
In spite of all the struggles, I achieved my white whale of goals last year: home ownership. I have spent decades trying to get my savings and credit in order enough to have something I have never truly had, a home. My wife and I had been window shopping for a couple years, but with the difficulties over this last year it took on greater importance. The extra room and increased neighborhood quiet has been a not so insignificant asset during these trying times. I am well south of "ok" from a mental health perspective, but I parish the thought of what the outcome would have been if I was still in our old rental through this.
But even this hard fought victory was dashed and replaced with more adversity. A week before we moved, my wife found a lump. From that point through now, cancer has been with our home. My wife has been brave and strong through it all. For me, it has been a white knuckle affair. I have been just wandering through the daily motions of life for months now. I've stopped reading, enjoying music or comedy, and this is the most I have written in months. Even the desire to settle my new space has been fleeting at best. Our family wants to make plans; I just want to hide away and cry.
But, today I wrote this post and I put a book in my work bag. I have started wearing my fitness tracker again and the reminders to move do not feel like screams of judgement that I cannot abide any longer. These are small signs, like the first tulip pushing through the mostly frozen ground point to the fact that something better is going to happen. It is not hope per say, but a changing of the season, a whisper that I might be stronger than I feel.
To gauge how powerful an experience these last twelve months have been I would like to highlight those road signs that came and went. This time last year I turned forty, normally this is seen as milestone to midlife. A walking through a door into greater stability after many lessons learned in youth. For me, my 40th birthday rang out like a death knell for what was before. My birthday was a joyous time of friends, loved ones, and preferred activities. It seems like it occurred a lifetime ago. I have a hard time even picturing the person I was then.
Through it all, my wife was with me as we forged ahead as best we could. In the depths of the first lock-downs last summer we passed the road sign that was our one year anniversary of marriage. It was impossible to celebrate in any kind of real way, but we did what we could. She looks forward to our second anniversary this coming summer as a sort of do-over. I wish I could marshal the hope and positivity she still has, but its just not in me after hoping for a year that some kind of reprieve was in sight. So far no reprieve has come over the horizon and I am all out of hope at this point.
In spite of all the struggles, I achieved my white whale of goals last year: home ownership. I have spent decades trying to get my savings and credit in order enough to have something I have never truly had, a home. My wife and I had been window shopping for a couple years, but with the difficulties over this last year it took on greater importance. The extra room and increased neighborhood quiet has been a not so insignificant asset during these trying times. I am well south of "ok" from a mental health perspective, but I parish the thought of what the outcome would have been if I was still in our old rental through this.
But even this hard fought victory was dashed and replaced with more adversity. A week before we moved, my wife found a lump. From that point through now, cancer has been with our home. My wife has been brave and strong through it all. For me, it has been a white knuckle affair. I have been just wandering through the daily motions of life for months now. I've stopped reading, enjoying music or comedy, and this is the most I have written in months. Even the desire to settle my new space has been fleeting at best. Our family wants to make plans; I just want to hide away and cry.
But, today I wrote this post and I put a book in my work bag. I have started wearing my fitness tracker again and the reminders to move do not feel like screams of judgement that I cannot abide any longer. These are small signs, like the first tulip pushing through the mostly frozen ground point to the fact that something better is going to happen. It is not hope per say, but a changing of the season, a whisper that I might be stronger than I feel.
