Hope...kinda

Sometimes the fear is paralyzingly...I'm driving down the road running 1 million errands, kids screaming in the backseat, one hungry (again), one screaming because he's poopy (again), and a daycare kid singing inappropriate radio lyrics at the top of her lungs, and it hits me...the fear. I completely tune out everything going on around me, my mind goes quiet and I start remembering. I remember that first ER visit. I remember days upon days of quiet dark hospital rooms. I remember the faces of those ignorant doctors telling me any time now he's gonna be just fine. I remember the smirk of one doctor in particular who would come into his room and shrug and give one of those half smile half pitty frowns and say, LITERALLY SAY, "I don't know". I hate those memories, the way they make me feel. The way they make me start to shake, and hyperventilate, and make my heart race. I hate them. I hate those doctors. I know it's not good to hate people. I know they are only human but I still hate them. I saw the, shrugging pity smile, one in the grocery store one day around Halloween. She had her kids with her and it took every fiber of my being, every ounce of self control I have in my body to not walk up and flat hand slap her in the face.  Those are not thoughts of a good person. Those are not thoughts of a Christlike person. They are thoughts of an angry, scared, scarred wife. Then I remember that I wasn't the one that was sick. I didn't have the pain, and surgery, and anguish that was indescribable. And I get angrier. I get ANGRIER, if that's even possible. 

As all these things are running through my mind I start to remember that it's in the past. There is only forward from here on out. All there ever was was forward.  As I continue moving forward I have to find a way to stop hating them, to let go of the awfulness that was the last half of 2014. I HAVE to find a way to forgive...forgive doctors, forgive family members, forgive myself for not listening to that small voice that first day that whispered to me to go to a different hospital. FORGIVE...such a big looming word.  Luckily (thankfully) I'm not angry at God, thankfully I still have my faith. Without faith I know I'd be in a world of hurt. If I didn't have my faith then the fear would consume me. I'd be dead inside and unable to move forward. 

I have my husband who is healing. I have my kids who are also healing. I have the knowledge that no trial lasts forever. 

This is how I deal with the fear...with hope!  Hope is the thing that keeps anyone going through a trial. And I am thankful for hope, and I hope I can figure out a way to forgive. 

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