I refuse to let Lupus own my memories!
by, 01-28-2011 at 06:56 PM (1379 Views)
Today I was out and about, actually feeling pretty good. I hate being as weak as I am these days but I felt inspired to dust off the treadmill and start working out tomorrow. I love to work out and I love to be strong. Undoubtedly I'll be sick again before I can get very far but it might be worth a start.
I started thinking, "I don't want this part of my life to be my "loudest" memories." I have to say, a lot of life-changing things have taken place in a very short period of time and without a doubt, the impact with last a lifetime. I just don't want this to be my important memories.
My favorite memories are my son and my vacations! We had SO much fun! Believe it or not, my son, even at just 13, was a fantastic traveling companion. His sense of direction just beats mine to hec and he totally rolls with the punches most of the time. Do you know that on one snorkeling trip, he actually dove down into the reef and touched the resident baracuda! It was caught on film so there's actual proof! Of course, I missed it because he had disappeared and I was frantic but he was the group hero after that. Or as we waded on a small island in the Carribean, I stepped on the most beautiful conc shell. We were on a cruise, which honestly, I hated -- to confined for me -- but my son was an absolute ship dog! He found a million places to explore and while I napped he sat at one of the bars, ate snack mix and drank gingerale. Again, he made many friends and quite the impression. I'm so grateful we did that! And then there's our first trip to Florida. Driving by the ocean, eating seafood every night and finding all these wonderful creatures that certainly don't dwell in MO!
And then there's the work memories. The "I saved the day," moments and my friends that I couldn't wait to see on Monday to tell this story or that. I miss the crunch deadlines that come out of nowhere or watching a project come together from scratch. I miss being twenty something, new in the career world, dressed to the teeth and giving a speech in front of 400 people. Or writing super tight copy for an upcoming campaign and traveling all over, staying in lovely hotels and eating out most of the time.
It's funny that while I was married twice, I don't have a lot of memories in that area -- good or bad. My first husband and I, well, even with almost ten years together, I can't think of anything special. The birth of my son was my miracle but the people who were the most involved and excited were my folks, not my husband. My second husband took us to Boston and that's a memory that can almost top the beracuda! We stayed right on the ocean, where I experienced my first high tide, complete with a full moon that shot sparkles from the waves. Magic! And tidal pool and sea glass. Wow, I guess I'd forgotten just how amazing that trip was.
Anyway, it's a blog and it's rambling but my point is that I DON'T want this stage in my life to own my memories. We are all fighting to have one good day and if only everyone understood how challenging that one day is to have. My hope is that eventually I will get on the right medicine to at least semi-control this disease, stop having to make a million phone calls and dr. appts. so that I can finally finish and edit the children's book I wrote five years ago and maybe have enough money to build some more of those favorite memories. Or honestly, a trip to the Ozarks (a local lake resort) would be just fine too. I want my son to look back and gravitate to our trips and laughs and now that he's a young man, he can help more and besides, I like to fish and just how hard can that be on this old body?
I hope you all have wonderful memories, too. I hope we can find a way to focus on those in addition to dealing with this rotten illness. As I write, my cough is already coming back. It's practically a guarantee if I've actually accomplished something during the day. But, God willing and I get a little help from the dr's (and my friends at WHL), I can keep filling up on the memories worth remembering.