It’s the Little Things

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♥Carrigan Niamh ♥

I’m sitting in the park watching my daughter run around the playground, and for the first time, I realize just how much my life has changed.

I’m enjoying her–seeing her jump, skip and play.  I’m loving the breeze that’s blowing, the smell of salt air, and the distant sound of waves crashing.  I’m present.

For so long, I couldn’t be present.

You see, I sat on this very same park bench last year.  And that same little girl ran around the playground, but I never chased after her.  I never pushed her in the swings. I couldn’t get up.

I didn’t have the energy.

I didn’t notice anything around me. Just that time moved too slowly and I wanted to go back to bed.  My muscles still ached from the multiple seizures I had the night before.  My head hurt and my vision was blurry. My heart was beating erratically. It never beat normally anymore–sometimes skipping beats, other times it would beat too fast and other times to slow.  I could always feel it pounding in my chest.  I’d usually count the beats, but I’m not sure why. I wasn’t aware of the breeze or the warmth of the sun. I didn’t enjoy watching my daughter laugh and play.  I wanted to enjoy her; I just couldn’t.

It’s easy to forget that I was dying. Maybe because I didn’t look like it from the outside? I don’t know. But I don’t think I recognized just how ill I had gotten, until I was given back my health.  It’s such a contrast–my quality of life then vs. my quality of life now.

It’s days like today that remind me recovery is worth it.  There are so many things that come before a pair of size 0 jeans. Like pushing my daughter in a swing.  ♥

 

 

 

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