And the story goes like this. It is almost 3:15 and you are working on 3.5 hours of sleep. It used to be a lot easier to get by on that little than it is now.
But you were 25 then and now you are 42 and some things are harder to hide. The lines in your face and hair that no longer completely covers your head bear evidence that time has not stood still. Not to mention your eyes, which seem to be missing some of their twinkle.
You are not really sure because you don't stare at them but you figure that with the weight you have been dragging around for so long there must be some impact. But what you really hope is that they show more determination and fight than anything else.
That is because you are a scrapper. Some people crumble when life gets hard. They lie down and pull the covers up over their head and pray.
Not you. You don't know how to give up. That has been among your greatest strengths and greatest weaknesses. Still, you prefer to think of it in positive terms because your attitude helps to dictate what happens.
When you think about the recent past you shake your head. Grandpa died, your sister got married and then you moved. And just when you thought that life was slowing down you got word about friends.
One lost her nine month old son and another one told you about how her mother and little sister died two weeks apart.
But that wasn't it, not by a long shot. One of the boys called to say that his girlfriend's cancer treatment isn't working any longer- the docs say that she has about a month.
And then when you really thought it was slowing down your brother-in-law got sick is lying in a bed in the ICU. Your little sister is freaking out a little bit and so is your nephew.
You have spent your entire life looking out for your little sisters so you put on your Big Brother Flak hat and took her under your wing. Because things happened so quickly your nephew heard terms like respirator and living will- terms that a fiver year-old shouldn't know.
But he does and he knows that they are talking about his daddy. So you put on your uncle hat and did some silly tricks that distracted him. It almost worked but then he got scared and started crying.
He wanted his mommy and nothing you did could make him feel better. Eventually his mommy came back from the hospital and they both slept at your house but you heard her crying in the bathroom.
You'd fight this illness yourself. If you could make it manifest itself in a corporeal form you'd take it on head to head and you would win because that is how these things go in fantasy. But this is real life and you don't know what will happen nor do the docs.
They have their expectations but you aren't willing to rest until you see a real recovery so you keep doing what you to support them.
And in the quiet of the dark you look out into the blackness and give thanks that things are as they are and not worse.
This was part of the Just Write link up.
"When you're in jail, a good friend will be trying to bail you out. A best friend will be in the cell next to you saying, 'Damn, that was fun'." — Groucho Marx
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