It is amazing to watch your own perspective shift. It’s disheartening to see how much you actually take something for granted without ever realizing you did.
The good ones are what I hold on to anymore. The good ones are the ones that I hope and pray for.
The other day I spent my lunch hour again on the trail. Slowly putting one foot in front of the other. Fighting, actually, to do just that. At one point, I looked down to see how very little I traveled with each stride.
Barely moving.
Baby steps.
I thought to myself that this did not matter. Direction mattered. The fact that I was simply going someplace mattered. I always believed that I truly appreciated the fact my body could move and run miles. Perhaps I did appreciate it, but I also took it for granted. A few months ago I was unable to go even a half of a mile; the simple gift of being able to move on some days is incredible. In that moment, on that trail, I told myself something that has been on repeat in my mind.
I look back on the past three years of my life. The common theme has always been:
“TOMORROW WILL BE A BETTER DAY.”
I said this to myself as I adjusted through divorce. I said this to myself through my daughter’s struggles with surgery on her colon. I said this to myself as she had to fight through horribly intense pain nightly that still makes me cry when I think about it. I said this as we adjusted her body again post another surgery.
Now, I’m finding myself saying it to her as she fights through a different pain nightly from a different condition she had as a baby that has returned.
I find myself saying it about my body daily. I have good days where I can walk {or sometimes “wog” because it’s easier on my tendon & calf muscle} two miles. I have other days in which moving in general is almost unbearable. I have days where I truly have to breathe deep and fight hard to just go a very slow mile filled with so many tiny baby steps.
I say it to myself when I am trying to breathe deep and hold it together when I see the fear in my daughter’s eyes; when I fight to answer her “why” questions and explain the next step, the next test, the next trial to her.
The good ones are a treasure. The good days when things do not seem to be so painful or so difficult, those days are such gifts. As for the difficult ones, I choose to believe that it is because of those that I can find the utmost appreciation for the good ones.
The difficult ones make us stronger. The difficult ones help us to love harder. The difficult ones help us to appreciate more. They aren’t “bad” because every day is a gift.
At the end of the day, if it was a day that was a struggle, I will always hold on to the fact that tomorrow will be a better day.
Until Next Time~
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