Safe Again

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 content.

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.

Prepare me.

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.

About inmycorner

This blog began as an opportunity to tell my Dad's stories. I sat with him and the computer and together we told stories. It was a wonderful way to get to know Dad. He was 9. He and Mom had a wonderful life together and since she passed away a year and a half before him - Dad was ready to join her. I no longer tell his stories but have found stories of my own. The impetus to resume this blog was the discovery that I had stage 4 ovarian cancer. Since blogging had been so therapeutic for my dad and I to get through our grief, I felt maybe this would be a good outlet to process my situation. I also hoped it may serve as an outreach to anyone else who is facing this very ominous journey. So far, so good.
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5 Responses to Safe Again

  1. WHen home is everything….I think you have and are, everything. ❤

  2. Gwen says:

    Finding life’s balance is always a challenge. With the love and support of family and friends, you are well underway to achieving it.

  3. Judy says:

    Stacey, you have no idea how much I appreciated this. I didn’t suffer with cancer, but I definitely feel vulnerable with my dry eye condition. It doesn’t torture me, but a lot of what you wrote is exactly how I feel. I love to be home where I feel safe and secure. I often push myself to do things outside this comfort zone but reading your words really summed it up for me.
    I thank you and will try to embrace my comfort more.

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