We went home after the neurologist gave us the news that has altered our lives. All I could think of on the drive home was how much time do I have? The doctor said 2 to 5 years; will it be less, 2, 5 or more? Who knows!
It’s been a year, now I can barely walk, I thought I’d have more time before needing a wheelchair.
I can’t use my hands any longer, now I need help with everything from eating to dressing. Worst of all to me, no more hugging my family. I thought I’d have more time to “hold on” to my hands.
Can you hear me or understand me in between the BIPAP puffs to fill my lungs? I know it’s hard to understand me and to wait for me to finish. I have so much to tell you, so much I want to say, I thought I would have more time to say how much I love you.
I dream of walking, running and dancing with you. I dream of moments we’ve had together. I want to live there, in every beautiful reflection. I know deep in my soul what this is…my time.
Time is elusive, no matter your grip, it slips through us all, taking a piece of us. Like grains of sand in an invisible sandstorm. Whirling, churning, connecting all of us if but for a fleeting moment.
Make time to catch a grain of life while you can, all it takes is your heart…