Becoming something you're not

After watching Shelbie endure a string of seizures, a long, sleepless night; the alarm goes off anyways, even before the Sun, is ready to rise and shine.  Note to self...find a quieter alarm clock!  It's piercing noise, rattles me and reminds me that another exhausting day is about to start.  I leave my sleepy thoughts on the pillow and shake off the dreary, like dust that settles on things that stand still.  The kind of dust perfect for fingering in my name...a signature laying claim to my own consolation prize life has offered up. 

I stumble to the bathroom, hot water warms up the shower, my reflection and wrinkles of time fade in the steamy mirror and I have one thought.

We are becoming something we're not.

Resilient.

Productive.

Hopeful.

Accepting.

Maybe not every day, but for one day at least. 

Would it be so wrong to live one congruent day? One day or two, to cry foul on the fairness of life? To let grief have its day?  Would the world fall off its axis if for one day, you acted the way you felt inside...let the world finally meet your inner Eeyore? It seems impossible that we could rise above the anchors of disease and make something of the day. 

But we do...we try at least.  It's not always a graceful attempt but it's an attempt. It's perfectly flawed with emotions that get in the way, all the feels I wish didn't squelch my perfect sense of denial.  I watch my kids do it better than me in many ways. 

Shelbie gets up everyday and works a fair amount. Her humor is coming back, her desire to create and become is alive.  Even Winston is back on track for his little book of Alphabet pictures. 

Spencer has created this life for himself in spite of his disease.  He barely survived high school, had to drop out of college during finals week because he spent that time in a hospital but has carved out a way, when there seemed no way at all. 

Sam is a work in progress but he stays in the wrestle.  He faces tough choices at an age when most young men have a myriad of options and never consider their health.  Sam does too but it will require a little digging to find that thing...but he'll get there.  He is far from throwing in the towel.  This afternoon, he even went to work at the trampoline park with his plasma transfusion going.  He wore the pump on his back and two needles going into his stomach.  He called me when it was through and I stopped by to collect the medical stuff, bandage him up and he finished his shift, then went to his second job.                                  

One of Shelbie's recent newborn photos.  They take my breath away, every single perfect little spirit she captures. 

                                      

Spencer is honing the art of landscape photography and video.  His eye for beauty and words amazes me.  He is a Director of Production and with that comes the responsibility of writing script and his writing is so introspective.  He develops these talents in the most unassertive way.

And then there's Sam and the fearless way he moves his body,with half a heart but a full soul and zest for living.  He truly exhausts the little moments. 

And, I can't forget Winston...our pet Hedgehog destined for greatness.  He sits in a bowl that Sam made and this picture that Shelbie took, reminds me to accept whatever fills our bowl for the day no matter how prickly it may appear.

That's where we stand, at least for a moment.  It has still been a trainwreck of a week so far but I am glad we aren't becoming all the things we could be...are... at times.  We are becoming something else.  Something we're not yet, but will be.