When I read that phrase "every storm runs out of rain" an image came to mind of a ship at sea, tossing and rolling in a wild, controlling froth of darkness. Enormous waves smashing onto the ship, unrelenting, banging and sending crew into survival mode, eventually relaxing as the sea calms. That could be a metaphor for life. In this life we will each have to weather a storm and then wait it out until calm is restored. Our lives mirror a storm, both frightening and satisfying. We have periods of dull and seemingly unpromising days, but change comes.
As our storm clouds of Parkinson's circle in closer and closer, we meet the new year wondering if the calm will ever reach us. It's insanely intense right now as we are transitioning to Hospice; soon to have the intake meeting to make it 'official'. In choosing this path we are hoping the hospice team will teach us that we are not waiting for the storm to pass, but learning to dance in the rain. We are hoping they can teach us that our life is not all darkness, that there is sun beneath it all if we can shift our focus. I am praying we both can capture slivers of that sunshine.
My heart hurts with the reframe on instant replay... "You can't leave me. I can't leave you". My heart is in shock at the thought of parting from Russ. There are no guarantees in life, that my husband of 43 years will be here from one day to the next. There are no guarantees in life period. So with a lot of prayer and much trembling we have made it to the end of 2020 and are grateful to begin 2021.
Here are a few photos from our year that speak of our journey...