Learning to Smell the Roses

Do you ever think back and go “how in God’s name did I get here?”  When Kevin became sick, I asked myself that.  When Kevin died, I asked myself that.  When I was working through widowhood at 24, I asked myself that.  Now, I ask myself that again as I’m facing back surgery, how did I get here?

I feel like, ever since returning from Camp Widow, heck, even before that, that life is in an altered state.  I returned from a music concert and then tweaked my back a month ago.  Hard to believe I’ve been dealing with a numb leg for 4 weeks now.  My life kind of stopped.  Not really though.  I continued working, continued travelling, continued doing more than I know I should be doing.

I wonder what part of me can’t just stop?  I can’t just give in to a broken body?  I can’t just let go of “obligations” that I place on myself.  I have a lot of questions to answer, some of which I’ll be working on in therapy tonight, some of which I just need to face now that I’ll be off for a few weeks post-surgery and literally can’t do ANYTHING.

Do you have time to smell these?

What does it take you to stop and sit and smell the roses?

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