Title: The Caffeinated Thinker
Blogging since: April 2012
Post Date: June 3, 2013
The past month and a half has been quite challenging. We are trying to figure out what normal is right now. We are stuck in a holding pattern. As of now, there is no known cure for ALS, but there are many clinical trials and there is research that, G-d willing, will bring a cure. We are, Thank G-d, too healthy for certain trials, and we are waiting for other trials to become available. Then we will hope and pray that we are selected for it.
So, we wait, we pray, we hope, and we cry (or maybe that’s just me). Some days are good days. The kids are happy, Yitzi is feeling well; there is an atmosphere of joy and excitement that permeates our home. We know how many people around the world are doing extra Mitzvos on Yitzi’s behalf and how many are praying for us. There is even a website called amitzvahforyitzi.org! We can feel a miracle just around the corner. I love these days. I even answer my phone on happy days.
Some days are downright bad days. The fear is so all-consuming that I cannot breathe. It is like ice has begun to form deep in my soul and is spreading outward. Just waiting, frozen in my grief, while the one I love continues to get worse and harder to understand. Sometimes for a second, I forget. He looks the same, still has the same smile and twinkle in his eyes. Then he tells me he is going to record his words, so in the future he can communicate with his own voice through a computer. I am surprised that the tears do not come out frozen.
These days are followed by shame. Shame that I do not have enough faith and belief in Hashem. Shame that although I know the Rebbe is rooting for us and guarding us from above, I am still terrified. I know Hashem makes miracles all of the time, some cloaked in nature and others quite obvious. I also know that not every deserving person gets one. That is what turns my heart to ice. Are we miracle-worthy?
Most of my days fall somewhere between these two extremes. Moments of joy and hope, moments of fear and dread, and, of course, hours of laundry.
I remember a family trip to Big Bear Lake about six years ago. After watching the kids play in the lake for two days, I finally decided to jump in. Fully dressed, I jumped into the lake. The water was very refreshing until my legs got caught in my long skirt and I started to panic. My husband very calmly said, “Put your legs straight down.” I did, and found to my embarrassment that the water was so shallow that my head and shoulders were completely out of the water. Aside from feeling foolish (and, yes, my husband was laughing his head off), I learned a very valuable lesson. It is possible to drown in three feet of water.
Right now, I am standing in murky water, where the bottom is not visible to my eye. That does not mean it is not right under my feet, but I surely won’t find it in a state of panic. I think Hashem does this purposefully, to see how we behave when we recognize our vulnerabilities. Do we look for help or panic and drown in three feet of water?
Every day, we wake up with the belief that today is the day Moshiach will come. The next day we have the absolute same belief, for thousands of years.
Every day I wake up thinking today is the day a miracle will occur. At the end of the day, I do feel a little less certain, yet the next morning I will wake up with the same belief.
Although I think one can definitely drown in just a few feet of water, I don’t think we will. The difference between the lake and our lives is the people around us. Thank you all for holding us up and keeping us from falling. For being there when we need help and constantly letting us know we are not alone. You are our life preservers.
[Post edited for length]