illness – black girl magic & meditation

If I could encapsulate all the things I am forever grateful for, it would breathe life into the dead trees that lost their way in the storm. It would calm the ocean and quiet the winds.

I am grateful for second chances. For recovery and restoration. For Cleveland lights, cold air ambulances, and for doctors who constantly reminded her where she was and that she was going to be okay.

For late nights and early mornings.

For quiet but confident doctors and nurses who saved her life.

For my Wesleyan Sweatshirt, which became an opener for so many soulful conversations with hospital strangers in cold waiting rooms.

For being exhausted beyond belief, but not giving a shit about how I looked. For being so afraid, the exhaustion became an afterthought. For clarity in times of despair and shock.

For distractions. And precise surgical hands. And beeping monitors.

For giving up, giving in, and surrendering. For prayer. And God. And love.

For the Au Bon Pain in the hospital.

For less tubes, more movements, more laughter, more independence. For Judge Judy and tear-filled laughter. For new hearts, new arteries, a new medical dictionary on my tongue, and caring night nurses.

For calm words, and kind deeds, and talking to her like she was a person. A truly embodied person. Not just a sick, sleeping person with no connections to this world.

For health…

It is most precious of things. The most priceless. The most needed.

For second chances. Always, always, always. For second chances.

So…the ground has shifted (a lot) since my last post.

The last few weeks have been exceptionally tumultuous. My mummy became suddenly and seriously ill in late September. After a couple weeks of treatment in the Bahamas, and her not really getting better, we flew her to the US to seek further treatment. We got out less than 48 hours before Hurricane Matthew hit the Bahamas.

In essence, only a few weeks have passed. But it has felt like years.

Truthfully, I didn’t know how to start a post like this. Six weeks ago I never would have had to start a post like this. How could I possibly put into words what this experience felt like? It feels so alien and apart from reality. And yet, it wasn’t.

Throughout everything, I constantly felt the need to make a record of everything we were going through. And yet, I never started. The swells of emotion that typically bring me back to my writing came. And yet, I never wrote. I couldn’t understand why.

I struggled with how much to share because it isn’t really my story. It’s hers. And it belongs collectively to my family. So I want to protect that; keep it private. But this medium would be hollow if I only spoke up about the good moments. So in the next few posts, I will do my best to work through some of the more profound realizations that have seeped in.

We aren’t completely through the woods. But at least we have a moment to breathe and some solid ground to stand on.

Tag: illness

For Second Chances

Ground Shift