I try to imagine your day. Do you get up to see your husband and son before public transportation whisks them towards their routines and their private thoughts of you? Maybe you sleep through this early morning ritual if the night was not kind to you. Maybe you’re tired. Maybe you’re tired of being tired. I see you climbing out of bed, carefully descending the steps, avoiding the cats that wait for you to acknowledge their very existence.
Do you eat breakfast? I can see your husband leaving something special to entice your appetite. Do you watch Matt Lauer? No one would fault you if your focus were mostly internal now. But, I know you voted early. I know many who are perfectly healthy but still can’t find the ballot box.
You put the dishes in the sink, to be considered later. The piano awaits but you don’t want to sit on that hard bench to play. You’d love to crochet except the med’s stole your focus for the right number of stitches.
So I see you sinking onto the couch with a prayer to get through this day to be whole: wife and mom and friend to care about what happens next to fully believe that you are not alone to realize every morning that you are, in fact, a Beloved Child of God, a Dear Granddaughter, Daughter, Niece, Sister, Cousin, Wife, Mother and Friend;
And finally, to lay down this gauntlet: to refuse to be defined by your role as Patient. To grit your teeth and prove that there is so much more to your story.
Jan Brown
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