Stay Strong

Be tough.
Fight on.
Get through this.

Keep Calm and Carry On.

Be strong.

We battle through the tough times in life to find the better days.

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Started asking myself why.

Why struggle to give the impression that all is ok when it clearly isn’t. Recent conversation with a relative made me laugh & think. They were undergoing an operation and chose to pass on general aenthesia. Body numb but fully alert they were greeted by the surgeon who politely asked “How are you doing today?”. The response was priceless. Something to the effect of how the hell do you think I am doing if I am on your operating table on a Sunday morning!  No sugar coated “I’m fine.” or okay, when obviously they were not.

We do this to make others okay.  To prevent them from seeing our weakness or sharing the burden.  Why?

Does it really do us any good pretending? Hiding our hearts breaking does what exactly?

Not sure if it is just nature or we learn it, but we seem to know that to survive we have to find the strength to act as if all is okay.  As a kid you learn not to cry, even when you feel like it.  You grow up.

Strength is nothing more than learning to hide the horror and pain.  In the end, it isn’t that you choose to be strong rather it becomes the only choice you have.  Every choice has an element of bravery.  Even choosing to give up has a moment where you face the outcomes and decide that is better than the other options.  Still a choice.  You own it.

I usually pull away in hard times, but I promised Mom I would be here for Dad.  I thought it comforted her knowing he wouldn’t be alone, but realize she probably also thought it through that I wouldn’t pull away this time.  Wouldn’t run into isolation of distractions.  Smart lady she was.  While I am with him, I fight hard not to show sadness or let him know how much it hurts.  Have to be there for him.

My motto is to treasure what is because someone always has it worse & I know this is true.  I am very lucky.  Even with everything that has happened, I fully understand how it all could have been a lot worse.  I knew my mother.  I got to spend the time & make the memories.  I get to make more with the rest of the family while we still can.

Part of me wants to challenge that thought process with the flip side.  It could always be better.   Someone somewhere, has it much better.  Which pisses me off.  Why do they get the pots of gold?

Then I remember there is something that is far more precious than gold.

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& I have to have faith that all of this trial and pain, leads to something far greater than I am now.  Just have to hang on and keep facing everything until it is again time to sparkle.

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