I was reading back through some old Meal Train entries, particularly from those first weeks and months after Kendall died. I wrote about being triggered while in the hospital with my oldest child, then how overwhelming our *first* major flood right after was. I couldn’t help but chuckle ruefully at how I ended my post on May 1, 2021. “Things will calm down someday, right? I mean, they HAVE to, certainly. Please?” Because, as you know, things did not do anything resembling calming down. I’m not even considering everything from when Kendall was sick, it has simply not stopped coming at me this past year and a half. At. ALL. Some of that chuckling is also in thinking about the many, many things that have happened for me and my family that were never mentioned on Meal Train. But I know all of them, everything these 17 months have entailed.
It’s also extremely evident when reading those, though, how very far I have come personally in this journey of healing, as well as learning how to manage stress. I know, I’m still not always great at this, or at prioritizing taking care of myself, but I have gotten better, more self-aware. Even just my overall attitude about trials, what involving the Atonement in my life really looks like, has evolved. But to be honest, at this point I don’t even try to guess what might be in store next for my family. I don’t feel like I can assume it will get “easier” or less chaotic, because I certainly haven’t been given any evidence (yet?) that it will. I don’t mean that fatalistically. More acknowledging that It. Just. Doesn’t. Stop. If anything the trials only seem to get harder.
I was talking with a friend on Sunday about some things, and she said, “You know, Suzanne, people who hear or read about your story probably make some assumptions about you that don’t actually line up with your reality.” Assumptions such as if I’m doing what I’m doing and carrying what I’m carrying, I must of course be physically strong. I know I have alluded to some chronic health problems I have, and I won’t give a laundry list here. But one big one was being officially diagnosed with fibromyalgia right before Kendall went in for his bone marrow transplant. I’m sure it won’t surprise anyone that I didn’t exactly have the time or mental energy to devote to learning about or treating it when Kendall was so ill and needed me. And like I mentioned above, the stresses and the pressures haven’t exactly let up since.
Except I have learned, too often the hard way, that I do need to be taking care of myself. My body does have limits to how far it can be pushed, no matter how much mental tenacity I may have. I have had to make allowances, had some things I’ve needed to let other people handle (paid or volunteers) because I knew they would physically hurt me, possibly put me out of commission.
And it’s OK. Because what I HAVE been able to do, physically and emotionally, is pretty amazing when I think back on it. It’s evident when I read Meal Train posts, especially as my brain fills in those missing details. How can I not feel an immense gratitude when I know the ways God has been strengthening me, helping me? I’m still learning, still stretching (often in very painful ways), but I can also feel myself developing a rock solid assurance of God’s grace through all of this.
It’s never been about what I can do. Not really. It’s ALL about what Jesus does. He doesn’t just make up the difference where I fall short. There is no arbitrary benchmark I (or any of us) need to reach before the Atonement starts to work. I do my part because it is how I learn to become more like Him, how I become more than I am on my own. I know I still have a long way to go. But already there are ways I can identify I have been changed, for the better, through the experiences of losing my mom and my daughter’s more recent health issues. I’ve been starting to think about things more along the lines of, “I’ve been ALLOWED to have these experiences, so that I can become more. Be an improved version of myself. Learn more about and strengthen my relationship with God.” I can already see it happening.
That doesn’t discount the hard, of which there is plenty. But I can’t help but see the humor in all of this. It DOES sound awfully ridiculous when I list it all out. Like a terribly written story that would be completely discounted and ridiculed because it is so absurd. Looking at that hard to believe list, though, doesn’t really tell the whole story. There have been so many times I have stopped and had to ask myself, “Is this really my life?” And I don’t mean because things were hard, rather because I have been so incredibly blessed. Without the adversity I honestly don’t think I would be capable of feeling the same level of joy and gratitude that has also been a part of my life.
So we’ll keep plugging along here. And I will reserve the right to laugh and be overly dramatic about that next thing that will surely happen. I certainly laugh when I see this picture of my mom. This was taken after she was finally rescued from our bathroom, where she had been stuck for several hours. Which is a long, funny story, and among other things involved me getting a call from my daughter as I was away. She informed me that I shouldn’t worry because she *thought* she could climb the tree next to the upper floor bathroom with a knife (I think in her mouth?), to be able to “rescue Grandma,” and she was going to try right then. ?!?!!!! After which she hung up and then didn’t answer my immediate call back, so I frantically called Kenny to have him leave work, 30 minutes away. He did so, my daughter did not end up impaling herself with a knife, and after many other mishaps Kenny was able to eventually take the door completely off of its (broken) hinges and my mother could “escape.”
Stay tuned for the next installment of my crazy, funny, unbelievable life!
