After having a day like yesterday, one where I was racked with pain and finally let the tears fall freely, I like to brush myself off and remember that my life won’t always be this way. I will find relief, I will be healed. It’s going to take time, and I need to persevere.
When I was finally diagnosed almost a year ago, I made a promise to myself that if I ever get well, I won’t waste a single day.
I briefly saw what my life was like before I got sick, very recently. For a few short weeks, I was so much better. And I didn’t waste it. I can look back on those few days and be pleased with myself that I didn’t waste those moments.
Did I spend my time cleaning my house? No. Not more than absolutely necessary. I didn’t wash walls or clean drapes. I didn’t tear apart closets or move the fridge to clean behind it. Oh sure, I cleaned toilets, and bathrooms, and dishes, and dusted and vacuumed, laundry and other necessary stuff, but nothing that I used to consider deep Spring cleaning.
Instead, I went out in the sun more. I cooked more. I baked with my daughter more. I walked. I danced in my living room. I chased my niece at the park. I spent time with friends and chatted over coffee.
I made love more.
And I’m actually quite proud about all of that. That’s what makes life good. That’s what I want to remember about life when I finally leave this world, whether it be today, tomorrow or decades from now. I want to remember that I didn’t waste my time, and made memories instead. I took each day and lived it like the gift it is.