Three years ago, life as I knew it forever changed. I can
remember every text, every phone call, every hospital visit, and every FB
message and comment and I am grateful for every single person and the
friendship and support. I am still grateful for those who see the constant
battles and challenges and still ask – even though three years have passed.
While there would be subsequent “incidents,” the most
significant of which would impact my early days at USC, I suppose we are among
the “lucky” for whom eventual recovery is almost complete. Scotty is mobile and requires far less personal
care than he did initially or even later as he experienced other
incidents. All-in-all it would appear to the outside world
that everything is fine and life has returned to what we knew. Well, it hasn't and to be honest, I really don’t like the
new normal.
The new normal has resulted in fractured relationships –
some beyond repair, and I am left to navigate them all - alone.
There is inappropriate behavior and hurtful words - I often
feel as though I am raising a toddler.
There is anger and frustration, on both sides - and it never
goes away.
There is the constant battle of wills between his, “I’m fine”
and my acknowledgment of the reality of his limitations.
There is the constant reminding – of things misspoke,
memories lost, explanations of circumstances, and people and places who are no
more.
There is the burden of having to be everything for one
person – caregiver, memory bank, parent, chief cook and bottle washer,
role-setter, bill payer, and to try and remain a spouse.
There is the constant wishing – for different, more, and
sometimes less.
There is the guilt – when anger rises, when the wishes are
dark, when the desire to walk away is stronger than the knowledge of the right
thing to do.
I suppose in many ways we really were "lucky" – there
are many more who lose much more than “we” have. Perhaps that is the harder burden to bear –
the almost normal, but not quite. There
is just enough debilitation that my role has shifted significantly while Scott’s
seems to have become easier. I have been
told I should just divorce him – both by dear friends and family. And almost daily that thought lives in
me. But the reality is not that simple. There are financial considerations as well as
my gift/curse to do the right thing – no matter how difficult the right thing
is to do. I do know that my new normal
is what it is and I’m grateful it isn’t more than it is or bigger than I can
manage. But today, the third anniversary
of the first “cerebral incident” is a day that reminds me largely of all that
has been lost. I’m working on the contentment
and perspective shift that comes with appreciation for all that remains – some
days it’s just not as easy as it sounds.
