Warning: I’m currently at UW Medical Center while Andy is having his second ablation procedure. I’m looking through some old photos for my 6th grader and my senior’s graduations and I’m listening to Ray LaMontagne. So this post will most likely be emotional and sappy. Consider yourself warned…
As I sit here finishing off the last of my tater tots (my favorite thing about coming to this place) I am flooded with memories from a little over a year ago when I was sitting at this very table. I was waiting, just like now, for word from the doctor about how things were going during this long procedure, only I felt like I was barely hanging on. I was scared and very unsure about Andy’s future; our family’s future really.
I am here today still anxious, but a different person than I was last year. I describe last time as crisis mode, survival. I didn’t feel like I could let myself totally freak out. I had to hold it together the best that I could because if I lost it, I might never get it back. So I distracted myself with the visitors and all the delicious treats that they so kindly brought me, and coffee was also extremely helpful.
Anyone who has dealt with a major crisis will tell you that it changes you. I suppose some for the worse, but many for the better. I’ve learned to accept the help that’s offered and not feel like I have to repay but just say thank you. I’ve learned to love Andy in a deeper way and appreciate him like I didn’t before. I’ve learned to give thanks in the pain and uncertainty. I’ve learned what to prioritize and what to let go of. I’ve learned to believe that God is always good and in control, even when I don’t feel it or see it. Continue reading “Familiar place”