Wednesday, May 7, 2014

Island Time

There comes a point in everyone's life when you just have to stop. It may be forced, like a tragedy that literally stops you in your tracks. It may be welcomed, like a vacation to the islands with your favorite. It may just be playing outside with your kids and realizing this is way more important than laundry. Whatever it is, there's a reason for that stop, that nudge, that island time that we so easily forget about.




I've been on this pendulum this week, swinging somewhere between this island mentality and real life. "Don't worry, be happy." Bobby knows what he's talking about there, don't ya think? Downright Biblical, eh?

Since Alexis' surprise, I've made a conscience effort to simplify my life. I got rid of things we don't need, made lists of things I wanted to get done, and reminded myself that worrying and being happy were both my choice. It's so easy to overcomplicate things and to miss out on the good things.
It's like this: life is as simple or as complicated as you see it. Life is as wonderful or as horrible as you say it is.



In Webblet news:

Ben is soaring at school. Mayberry is everything I was promised it would be and I couldn't be more thankful. He loves his new turf and they love him. On a developmental scale, he's working hard and making all the right strides. I still have yet to associate with another kid as delightfully happy as my Ben. A friend told me that Ben's going to be the Patch Adams of the children's hospital and I have a feeling he's going to be right.

Alexis is doing well, all things considered. We work hard at keeping her world as germ free as possible, but still as "normal" as we can. Breathing treatments, medicines and hand sanitizer are all staples in our home now. I'm not naive enough to think this is how it will always be. I know she'll never be better and I know CF is a fight we won't win without a miracle. These woods that some people are privileged enough to get out of? We have a campsite there. In my world, they're nestled close enough to hear the beach and they're only scary if I let them be. I don't know how long we'll get to keep her, but somehow that's okay. Nobody's promised tomorrow. Ryan wanted his frisbee and ended up playing with Jesus. When it's time, it's time.

I know what it's like to mourn, to have your world turned completely upside down. I understand heartache and fear; I know what it's like to survive. But I also know what it's like to come out on the other side, to embrace island time and to live on purpose.

Life is your gift; living is your choice.

Happy Hump Day.


No comments:

Post a Comment