I feel like a lout, here I am moaning and groaning over a hurt back and not being able to shave my legs....In my not really being able to clean or unpack my apartment I have taken the time to browse through other blogs. I have come across ones that have rendered me to heartache and tears. There are several people that are chroniclers of their terminally ill life. I read of a young man who justs wants to live a normal life, but is counting the days till his last breathe. I admired his inner courage and strength to continue each day as a memorial to life. Reading them made my pain feel mighty insignificant.
I was talking the other day with one of my co-workers and mentioned my father's fight with cancer. I expressed to this person of my fear of not being as strong as my father was if faced with that kind of illness and once again I am drawn inward to how weak I really am. I moan and grown about paper cuts, I abhor pain. I am a whimp. Yet I also know about myself that who the going gets tough I get tougher. I think back on all I have been though in my life and I tell myself that I have to believe that I would be able to bear any burden put upon me. Having lived through many horrendous things in my life, I feel their pain. I wanted to post a comment to some of these people, but was afraid to do so. I don't want them to feel I pity them, I understand myself about pity. I was moved by their courage, selflessness and desire to find life in even the smallest details.
I am hurting so bad, but I am not going to give into a personal pity party. I am going to go lay down for awhile and read. Maybe even reflect on some of the bloggers that I feel like I have met, yet do not even know their names. (I am becoming awfully adicted to blogging...it is a beautiful thing)