Friday, November 3, 2017

Small Dreams

Chronic illness is one of the most isolating experiences. You become isolated because people just do not understand your reality. They slowly move out of your life and get on with the lives that you used to be part of. You feel left behind. I am not lonely, but I am alone in this reality of mine.

People don’t understand me anymore – we talk past one another. They have no idea of what my reality is like, but I remember what the reality of a healthy person is. I hang my head in shame now that I remember my chronically ill grandmother and how little attention I paid to her. She just could not leave her bed so did not take part in any family activities and would lie in a darkened room day after day. Yes, I remember bathing her and sitting and talking to her as a young adult, all the while hoping that the visit could be over. I understand now how isolated and neglected and starved of human company she was. I have social media but in those days, there was no such thing. How lonely she must have been.

Words cannot describe the horror of waking up sick every day and of being sick every minute of every day. Some days are better than others. Some days I can handle the pain but I get those days when I think I can’t take it anymore and just want to end it all.

Miracles do happen and I am defying the odds to become part of the “normal” world again. The verdict of “there is no cure” just refuses to sink into my brain to take me to a place of acceptance. Every day I live by grace, minute by minute and some days hour by hour. How I wish I could go to a park and swing like a child again, to walk on the sand picking up bits of driftwood and seaweed or to learn to fly a kite. My dreams are no longer big dreams but rather dreams of normal things that I know will lift my spirits. I know I won’t be able to walk on a beach again, but I could sit and watch the waves. I know that I could be taken to a park and I know I could sit on a swing and soar through the air as though I have no care in the world and I know that I could be taught to fly a kite.

But who will take me? Who will teach me? Who will hold my hand while I pursue these dreams of mine?