Seven Year Itch

Seven years ago tonight, I enjoyed my last family meal on our back deck at 51 Elmer Ave, a 100 year old beach cottage that we renovated and proudly called home. The boys were six and four, our careers flourishing, our love abundant and the world our oyster. I'm sure every day was not as rosy as I recall, jostling kids back and forth between daycare, school and activities and trying to squeeze in precious family time with two working parents focused on building a good life for ourselves and our boys. But, that is how I recollect those days - unscathed, sunny, hopeful.

My glass is still half-full, my optimism for life not diminished from the experiences I've (often) struggled through since that fateful day, Friday July 13th, 2007. It has not been an easy road and likely never will be, but the choice to live and to thrive is the only acceptable one and I must do so for my Cole and Sam, my dad (love you always) my mom, my sister and the many friends and family who have not let me fall apart, or at least not longer than a good cry, every once in a while, allows. I lost my best friend which was excruciatingly painful, but oh my god, what would I have ever done without my beautiful, munificent, gracious, forgiving, funny, real, persistent friends who all have busy lives themselves, but never, ever cease to accept and love me.

I've struggled with the way I look, asking for help, feeling accepted and only in rare (yet still painful) moments, when I've been pushed aside by those I loved that don't want any part of my not-so-perfect life. But in saying this, my intentions are not to diminish any one of the many, many more amazing and positive moments I've had in the last seven years, but to acknowledge them and move forward. I am eternally grateful for the kindness of others (even those who have come to know me since TM) and thankful that I am here as there are others who are not as lucky. 1/3 of Transverse Myelitis sufferers have no recovery or improvement in symptoms and most often those with an acute onset (as in my case) will be confined to a wheelchair and completely dependant on others and sometimes respirators for the rest of their lives.

I continue to experience change, improvement, and greater independence. Lucky me.
I have no idea what my future holds, but rather than let this day pass unacknowledged, I acknowledge it as just another day in my crazy and wonderful, unpredictable life.

Each day, every moment, I dedicate to you Cole and Sam, the two greatest loves of my life.






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