Life is strange. This time last year, I was going to pieces, hoping that my son's Coats disease was under control (it was). But just some time before that, I'd gone to pieces and sought help. I know I still need it, but for the past 7 months, I've managed on my own. Not commendably, and not the way I'd have liked to, but I've managed...
Now, I'm close to going to pieces again. Which is why it's time to take stock. My son's Coats has been under control for a year (his eye exam is around the corner. my fingers are crossed even as my brain reels like it always does in the run up to the eye exam every 4 months). In May, I managed to get out of my dead end job into one that's bursting at the seams with opportunities. I can say I've done pretty well for myself professionally - and there's scope to do more.
I can crib about the state of my marriage (hanging by the skin of my teeth), the state of my body (bursting), the state of my mind (all gone to hell and back) and the state of my house (the zone before time began) and the lack of time (ever got into the car and realized you were still wearing your bedroom slippers?) But that's nothing, really, when I sit to count my blessings.
And I feel truly blessed that I have my son, that I am able to be there for my mother - and she for me, and that all my hard work at the office is paying off. I am grateful to the Almighty that my son's condition was caught in time for treatment, and that the treatment has worked. He has flourished in school - at academics, at sports (he won the gold medal in the hoop race a couple of months ago) and other activities. I have a roof over my head and I am able to provide for my family. I am blessed with good health (the loose joints on the left-hand side of my body are worth another blog post, surely). We have been kept safe, day after day and that, in today's violent times, is something to truly give thanks for.
I need periods like this - to give thanks. Otherwise, I would just beat myself with thoughts of what more I need. Kiddo's sleeping over at my mom's. DH is asleep. And I finally have the time to return to my blog and give thanks. Because I know that although it's outrightly unfair for my child to be suffering from a condition that hangs over our him like a Damocles' sword, I know that the Almighty must have something good planned for him.
It breaks my heart to see him, innocent and carefree, deal with this condition in a very matter-of-fact manner. I dread the day he will ask me: "Why did this happen to me, Mamma?" So far, it's only been: "Will they make me unconscious or are we just going for the drops?" That's heart-rending, too, but I deal with it. I can only pray that when the time comes to answer the "why me?" or "when will this end?" questions, I will know what to say. Until then, I can only give thanks for the strength that we have received to deal with this thus far and hope for the best.