It’s been a long time since I’ve posted any updates. I find that now I can’t actually speak, so many thoughts are spiraling in my brain. Lots of song lyrics that at one moment seem profound and relevant and then poof! They flee…
I’ve been reminded to stay in the moment. At first I wanted to stab the sage person who offered me this advice, but actually, it’s a good idea. For instance, when I think of someone I haven’t seen for awhile, and what it would be like to see them, I start crying. Because I think of all that I’ve experienced with this person and what I would still love to experience. But if I remind myself to just be here now, the tears subside. BE HERE NOW.
I find myself remembering or visualizing odd memories. Repeatedly. parking my car and running down the stairs in the Parking lot. Walking into a store. Crossing from the dark wings to the brightness of center stage. Putting on clothes …
What I am grateful for -
Thank god I practiced yoga. My beautiful teacher Michelle Rappaport would have us practice mindful mediation. Scanning our bodies inwardly. Looking at an itch. Or a pain, discomfort. Instead of scratching or moving- breathing and looking at this itch or pain. Now that I can’t move or scratch this itch, it’s helpful to remember this technique Keeps me from losing my mind.
Keep thinking, okay this is it. I can’t walk but, ok. I’m still me and Bill and I will be like the couple in Notting Hill. She’s crippled yet scathingly witty. He’s devoted and can romantically carry ( sweep) her upstairs to their love nest. Not easy but doable.
Then I lose the ability to talk. Dreadful. Diabolical. Disastrous. .. weeks go by and I find all the thoughts I’m struggling to communicate might not be all that important anyway. We all talk too much probably. Ok. Maybe I can live like this! Bill kinda understands me. We can get by…
Now. My new reality. I’ve had a feeding tube inserted. Can’t really swallow food, and to add insult to injury, I’m choking routinely, like pneumonia.
I’m my mind I’m goin’ to Carolina….
Or racing on Smokey in the hills above Burbank, curve after curve of winding hill, using my strong legs to grip his sides as we run our way, bareback, to Amir’s Garden. Denise. Bristol. Remember?
Pat Leblanc and I laughing deeply, from the bottom of our souls, as we fly past our friends, on basically out of control horses( I admit it!) wind and laughter creating tears of bliss running down our cheeks.
I could go on. Maybe I should. But I will pause and add more later.
One more thing…a few nights ago, when Bill was struggling to move me from one chair to another (see HOYER LIFT) ( another insult)… I honestly felt a hand touch the small of my back. My mom? Pierre? Not sure. But I felt it.
Grateful For You xoxox