Thinking of a place…

Happy weekend. The 3PP was nearly filled this morning. The only regulars missing were Blondie and Fatgrap. Slo has gone awol but Brett returned from a long hiatus. The ride was 50 miles and my legs felt it. This morning was chosen suffering and it was good.

Miss celebrates another birthday tomorrow. Her past year has been by far her hardest. She’s hung in there and never been more diligent in her fight for health. I know she feels like nobody understands her plight and this pains even more. We both just want the war on her body to end and for our lives to return to equilibrium, status quo, the way things were. Ain’t happening today or tomorrow. Miss has been at war with her body since the end of July. This is unchosen suffering. Sucks.

So, we say our prayers and hold onto hope. Our faith and resilience are in the crucible and I know I’ve never felt so unable to measure up. I want to hang in there and be strong for her, yet constantly feel like I’m dragging ass. Not giving up but not getting through, feels like the mantra. Recently read of the plight of Sisyphus, the dude in Greek mythology who gets punished for being all kinda crafty and stuff. He’s punished with a life pushing a freakin’ ridiculously heavy boulder up a hill only to reach the top and have it roll back down on him. Back at it again, he pushes. All day. All night. A life without progress – just pain. I know my Miss feels like Ms. Sisyphus since last July. I know it’s not forever – just feels like it. We’re both soft and never tasted chronic illness like this. I know this but knowing doesn’t alleviate the anguish. Sucks.

Jordan was home last weekend and it was freakin’ magic. He introduced me to more music. Music soothes, doesn’t it. At the moment, I’m captivated by the band titled The War on Drugs. The track playing is titled Thinking of a Place. The artist is thinking of a place where all suffering is gone, at least that’s what I’m hearing. He reminds me of a young Dylan and I’m loving it. Have a good weekend, friend. Hold the hand of someone hurting, turn toward them, help them think of a place, a happy place. Me, I’m thinking of Chicago and Coldplay. Miss is jumping and the rain is starting to fall. We’re just a couple rows from the stage and a million miles away. Thinking of a place with my Miss. Good…

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