There are a few things no one wants to hear, such as:
*There has been an accident
*We need to discuss these test results
*You have had another stroke
It seems like I am in an ER. The best thing to do might be to do nothing, but the difficulty level of this is high. It involves sitting still and breathing. I can’t breathe. So I change the subject to life on Mars or a handy tip like some things work if you plug them in again. Or rather, I imagine speaking.
But I’m not supposed to do something. I’m supposed to do something way harder than that. I’m supposed to do nothing. While strapped on a board which is strapped on a gurney. Add nothing. Subtract nothing. And stay for a moment with what I know. Which is just about nothing. I don’t know why I’m here.
We cling to rituals and traditions that make us feel part of something if we have a family to share rituals and traditions, and if they had a family to share rituals and traditions. We didn’t. They didn’t. I don’t.
Brain disease takes you slowly over years. Brain injury tears you apart. Something isn’t slightly wrong. It’s totally wrong. Then totally missing. Then totally gone. Same with strokes. I must catch me if I fall. I must catch me if I fail.
I imagine a perfect world. People have the food they need, the money they need, plus the faith, love and strength they need. And the roof over their head. Nothing stalls, leaks, cracks, creaks, squeaks, or falls apart. No one gets bent out of shape.
Eyes stay sparkling, clear – as do rivers, oceans, lakes, plus purple mountains majestied, and skies which are not cloudy all day. Arteries don’t get clogged. Neither do highways or sinuses. Hearts don’t get broken. Neither do heads.
God, I hope this is a memory and not your today. Love you.
I like your perfect world! If only we could live in it.