sing like wildflowers

Yesterday afternoon, when Ellis, wearing her purple headphones, bounced up and down with delight in the dining table chair telling Elliot some inane thing and Elliot almost fell out of his chair, I almost cried. How do I get to be a part of this joy? That little body moving so freely and happily is such a contrast to her when she gets pale and sick.

In random moments,  I constantly study her face and make mental notes of her expressions and facial features. I’ve done this since she was a baby, because I was afraid of not seeing her enough, in case.

I’m so thankful to God for this miracle of being home together in the quiet and everyone doing their own thing. This peace is a gift, which comes in unexpected times and when we think we just can’t move forward emotionally and we are running on fumes. But thank the Lord we are out of survival mode and living life ready for winter break to start next week, celebrate Christmas, and look forward to the new year.

When I get into an emotional downward spiral like I did last Thursday, I have to remind myself how far we’ve come and how much we have grown through these ordeals. I wish growth came easier and not through challenges, but they are the impetus for us coming out stronger and more resilient when it’s all done and over.

I’ll probably get into my funk again as time goes on, but I am confident that I can crawl out of that dark space quick enough to not linger long in that hopeless state. I don’t it alone. God brings me the right people, words, and external support I need to navigate those storms, as well as the right depression medication to manage my depressive symptoms. I used to feel shame in taking medication but now I see it as improving my quality of life rather than suffering in shame.

This has been one of the toughest years, and I thought 2023 was the hardest with all of us catching COVID and 3 hospitalizations in one month for Ellis last November and December. This year, I felt the bottom was not too far off in October after multiple hospitalizations and tough conversations with the cardiologist of what advanced therapy will look like when heart failure becomes more apparent. My knees literally shook yet I had to walk into the room and tell Ellis that there was nothing to worry about. I couldn’t even believe myself.

But through the tumultuous storms getting battered left and right by life’s circumstances, we have managed to overcome and still find joy in the midst of it. It is all God. I just can’t explain it any other way. And God has given me this blogging platform to make friends from all over the world, with whom I would never have met in real life, and a supportive community, which I’m deeply grateful to be a part of. Thank you, everyone!