Tag Archives: feeling philosophical

Redemption Song

I miss my handwriting. I miss doodling on the margins of a page and filling in the answers to a crossword puzzle and sending a thank you note and making lists. I miss dancing and real hugs and opening doors and swinging my legs over the side of the bed and putting my feet on the ground.

Last night Scarlett was in my lap reading herself a book. Her hair is down to the middle of her back and it ends in rings of gold. All I could do was look at that glittery hair against her little brown back. My hands won’t even rise high enough to touch her. It is heartbreak. I want to hold her so much that my stomach hurts and I feel a quickening in my chest. I have shed enough tears over this to generate my own weather pattern, and still my body won’t accept the fact that it can’t reach for this person it created.

I am becoming increasingly breathless, and my tongue is twitching inside my mouth as if electrified. It is horrifying to watch, just one more muscle growing weaker and caving in, the whole thing looking like a worn down soccer field full of divots waiting to trap an ankle and snap it. I can still talk, still swallow. But my whole body is tired, and my brain races with ideas that I could never realize.

These are true things. But there are other true things that are significantly more uplifting. Read More>

Two Worlds

Living with ALS means that you are often straddling two worlds. For me, the first world is the one where my friends talk about school, their kids, their vacation plans, their jobs. In the other world, my friends talk about making their own funeral plans, how to take some of the burden off of their families, picking out what they will wear when their kids say goodbye to them. Both worlds are real, but it can be extremely challenging to toggle back and forth between them. I’m getting better at it, maybe? I’m not really sure.

I had a flash of former life last night, a vision of this yoga class I used to go to regularly. The doors that closed, the heat rising to 110°, me on my mat performing the same 26 poses in the same order, all that strength in my legs and arms. One time, lying on the ground, as calm and settled as a leaf, when the instructor came to stand over me, his sweat dripping down onto my own chest. How I flinched when the drops hit me. The way the room would begin to smell stale, a burnt popcorn aroma that I associated with mistakes, as if everyone there was purging what lay just under their skin. Read More>

Where is my mind?

I’m not feeling well today. I want to write an entire blog using only Emoji’s: a raincloud, a cough machine, a devilish dog, a child sneaking candy, a burgundy nurse with arm muscles like Popeye.

It’s just a cold, but another cold is not what I needed right now. Yesterday was the last day of the official #WhatWouldYouGive challenges, but it looks like the campaign will continue as more team members give up abilities into August. We might extend the whole thing even longer, because why not? We haven’t cured ALS yet, despite all the talk you hear about breakthroughs.

Breakthrough is a funny word. And every time I read an article using that word it reminds me of when I worked in book publishing and we called every book groundbreaking. They weren’t. But you can say whatever you want when you’re trying to get people’s money and attention. Read More>