Grounded

I am grounded. Still. I am resisting the urge to find some "normalcy" and visit Target or go to the grocery story. I must rest. But I know I am healing since these thoughts are even beginning to penetrate my better judgment. A week ago I felt as though I could slip away into a far off place, where the breathing wasn't labored and the pain didn't exist. But, still, with every blood draw, tube insertion, test, tunnel, probe, shots in the stomach, and the stick, stick, stick of needles, the pain didn't compare to that of my broken heart, the one that is broken that still beats. The one that had a bacterial infection, what??!! What does that mean? My scans showed a healthy heart, other than that, once again. Well, that and the slight chance that in the past I had something known as a "silent heart attack", proper name forgotten in my feverish delerium. So, other than THAT, and the pneumonia, all tests are good and fine and I am going to be well. I am thankful. I am thankful for benign polyps and no tumors. I am thankful that God is seeing to it that I am here a little longer, that this is a temporary setback, probably, as I have said, just to make me stop, rest, heal, do what is necessary to move through this phase.

Being grounded is interesting, though. I am not used to just sitting and reading or watching an hour here or there of television, lying down to rest, I am an on the go person, involved in many projects, some of my own design, some of other's, the ones I enjoy and wouldn't even consider saying no to, because of my love or admiration for that person. But I have had to re-evaluate, define my purposes, and establish my priorities...and I don't even have a REAL job:)

Being grounded has been uncomfortable. It has brought grief to the front and center. It's not that I don't live with it every day, every second of my life, every beat of my heart, but this is different. I have realized that in doing all I do, even when it is simply "nesting" or reorganizing closets, or staying productive in other ways, I have come to know that this is my way of working through grief. I don't want to think about it, I don't want to really absorb what has just happened in our family. I am in shock mode and don't even know it. I am reeling. I have added yet another layer of grief to my soul, and still, always, I must find my way.

I am going to slow down a bit. I am going to focus on me for awhile. I am going to stay grounded in God's blessings and not try to do it all. Sometimes we don't have choices, like all the events of the last months. Could I have ignored Michael's last weeks and days, and stayed home, going about my life as if the people so near and dear to me were not suffering and trying to find their own way? Could I have stayed home and "enjoyed" the festivities of life, giving no thought to what was happening in my own family, a beloved facing his final days? A sister tending to him with every touch, needing someone to help hold her up, too? Could I have ignored the similarities between Michael's voyage to Allison's, that while they were separate, they were also, one? Could I have turned away from the need to pray and hold and tend to my loved ones? We respond to the call that God puts before us, but then He gently speaks in whatever form or fashion necessary to get our attention.

He has mine! I am grounded. I will sort it all out. I will find my way. I am blessed. I am blessed with so many opportunities that seem so privileged, and then in the next breath, I can feel so lost, lonely, forgotten. But God's word promises me I am not. I am never alone. I am never lost. I am never forgotten. I may be grounded, but in many ways I am soaring.