I like being home.
I know it. I am comfortable.
To not be home – to not be in routine – is frightening.
I’ve navigated the dangerous waters. I’ve leaped the leap of faith. I’ve climbed mountains.
I don’t need to do it again.
I love my home. I love my family. I love my friends.
That’s all I need.
I don’t need to go out. I don’t need to buy things. I don’t need to travel.
I’m not running away from grief. I’m not trying to stay ahead of it. I’ve faced it square in the eye and said, “good-night”.
I’m not burying my head in the sand. I’ve got nothing to avoid. I stare my life square in the eye and take it as it comes.
Yet. I am a new person. I don’t know what I can or cannot do. At least, in terms of stamina. Don’t ask me to commit to something I don’t know I can’t handle. Don’t ask me to shoot straight from the hip. Don’t ask me if I’ll be okay. I don’t know. I don’t know what I can handle – physically.
Give me warning.
Give me advance notice and let me think about things.
I’m better that way.
I’m not the person I used to be — before cancer. I’ve fought hard and long to be where I am. I will continue to fight. But, at the end of the day, there is a price. And that price is energy. I don’t know how much I have. I am no longer in control of it. I cannot commit. At least to something that takes energy. I can commit to emotions. I can commit to prayer. I can commit to thought. But – count my body out. I just don’t know.
I like who I am – who I have become. I am older. I am wiser. I am more me than I ever thought I could be. I still want to please, to accommodate, to assist. But the bank is limited. And I don’t know how many funds I have in reserve. I have some – I think. I must spend them wisely. And knowing what is wise is the key.
The more I live, the more I learn. If I take time to think. I cannot busy myself with physical lest I have no time or energy for the mental. It is one or the other. Balance is my key. I cannot run from grief. I cannot run from life. I don’t want to. I am good right now to live my life. I am not bitter. I am not resentful. I count my blessings. I am okay with here. I am good with home. I like being home.
I am alive because I know my limits and I know I have limits.
I am not the same person I was. I will never be the same. I embrace the change.
But change disrupts. Learning to live with this disruption is a challenge.
I like being home.
I am comfortable here. And I am safe. Again.