“… clarity, he could remember thinking, is not obliged to be tactful.”
Excerpt From The Whole World Over
By Julia Glass
Though tactful with others, I tend toward not while insulting myself.
For more than a week, I’d felt anxious concerning a sense of unrest that took its time making its way from subconscious suppression into my conscious awareness.
I’ve been grieving for the healthy person I’d been before fate offered me a serving of cancer, which, over these past two years, has become too emotionally invasive as to see me graciously accepting such severely limiting after effects without experiencing indigestion, repeatedly. Literally. I’ve either had the runs or have been backed up with no happy medium in between.
Hopefully with this awareness of grief in the forefront of my mind, my digestive system, no longer feeling instinctive need to send me signals of internal distress, will calm down and relax, and having openly confronted my grief, hopefully, with time, my intuitive sense of positive focus will rebound, and the depths of my gratitude for being alive will re-emerge, enticing my spirit’s smile to re-ignite as naturally as would that of a water sprite frolicking through a sun shower.
I’ll not expect my spirit’s smile to re-ignite, today, as Ravi’s been ill (third respiratory infection, this month) since a week ago Sunday when she awakened at 1:30 am with a choking sensation, so thick with mucus was her chest and throat. With a fever of 102, Steven rushed his precious daughter to the ER, where she coughed up enough mucus to fill half a cup. The following night, painful gas cramps due to her antibiotic kept Ravi awake until she fell into a thoroughly exhausted sleep at 1:30am.
As Ravi’s magic wands and fairy dust offer no relief when life feels truly miserable, we’ll go with the natural healing powers of love and ask for a change in prescription to an antibiotic that won’t create turmoil in Ravi’s tummy.❤️
Though we’d hoped the burst of prednisone, also prescribed in the ER, would see our sweet grand daughter feeling somewhat better before she and Steven followed up with her pediatrician, last Wed., that was not to be, as she and Steven were both diagnosed with croup, which being contagious suggests quarantine at home until this virus runs its course.
In the aftermath of my nephew, Sean’s tragic death and my niece, Deb’s botched surgery, both in Sept., November’s been a tough month for our family. While Ravi’s respiratory infections have caused her spirit’s animated imagination to flatten, her active mind has missed two weeks of school. And in addition to croup, Steven’s been fighting a sinus infection. And what could I do? Nothing. And so, thus far, inner conflict concerning this year’s holiday season has left me feeling more than disconnected from joyful tidings.
At times like these, I find myself in need of reassurance, so once Will arrived home from the drive-in pharmacy where he picked up a prescription for me, I asked my husband of 54 years for that which I’d felt in need: Will, do you remember that after my third emergency colon surgery (following our car accident), I’d felt as if I’d never be well? Will nods. Well, I’m feeling that way, again, and need to ask—if I’m like this from now on, will you love me, forever?
Without a moment’s hesitation, the natural emergence of Will’s smile confirms the truth of his reply—I’ll love you forever and ever, Annie. And, just as you healed, very slowly, after your third colon surgery, with time on your side, you’ll get to feeling healthy, yet again.
My response—a huge sigh of relief. For two reasons. First of all, because Will believes I’ll get well. And his kiss seemed to seal that deal.
Secondly, at the vulnerable age of three, I’d become hard-wired to feel like a burden when unable to take care of my loved ones’ basic needs, and knowing this to be true, Will patiently feeds me whatever reassurance seems necessary whenever insecurity concerning my self worth seeps out of my distant past. In short, with Will’s help, I remind myself to feel worthy of love no matter what I can’t do. And as such, no matter how long this current recovery takes, I plan to relax my anxious state of mind by consciously releasing ancient angst concerning unworthiness that has recently arisen while placing my faith in the belief that, over time, I will, one bright and sunny day, feel so well as to pack up these past three years of repressed anxiety along side of yesteryear’s ‘baggage’, which remains locked up as far away as is humanly possible from my spirit’s basic need to feel naturally exuberant and joyfully grateful at being fully alive—if not today then perhaps tomorrow or the day-week-or-year after that …
In case your curiosity has been aroused as to how this grief seeping situation began to dampen dark shadows of self doubt over my naturally sunny disposition—please stay tuned …👩🏻
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