November 28 will mark the two year anniversary of my dissection experience. I am really glad it happened then and I am somewhat 'fixed', at least for a while.
But aren't we all here only a 'while'? So every day I wake and am breathing is a blessing beyond any words I could write. Each new morning's light is like a coffee break (I'll take espresso) in the long day of uncertainty.
However at the end of the day, as the sun sets, a sometimes subliminal fear sets in, a fear of not waking up. I think this dread of the dark is a weaving of many thought currents not the least being the memory of my late night dissection and the severe panic and pain accompanying the aorta tear.
So at night I do not welcome that visitor of disquietude. Yet it predictably comes.
I do not understand many things. But I know this; it is good to wake up and take a breath. For every new sunrise I am granted absolution from a darkness once more.
Maybe for me this reprieve is what grace is all about.
No comments:
Post a Comment