Since my son has been home from college on summer break, I'm realizing my family has been in a constant state of shock since my 2014 health challenge.

Changes in him made me aware of the changes in all of us. He has become more inward with his thoughts and emotions which initially had me kinda worried and concerned. Intellectually I see he has been this way for a while now, and perhaps felt the need to retreat safely in his own head considering his mom, someone he's very close to is no longer mentally and physically available like she use to be. His giant of a dad, has been preoccupied with running our household. Carrying the load, the weight of caring for me, our daughter, while neglecting his needs.

My nearly dying has jilted us all into the reminder of the reality that tomorrow is not promised to any of us, regardless of the qualities of who we are as a person - shit happens.

Truly my husband and I had this grim awakening back in 2000, when our earth shattered forever - we lost a child, a daughter. Maybe I'll write more detail about this devastation in a future post, as the pain is always with me - revisiting the loss is no huge feat. But still, oddly on what would have been our daughter's 15th birthday, I get deathly ill. Bizarre.

Pain can enlighten. Pain can destroy. Ultimately the reward of tragedy is how we chose to triumph.

Quietly we've been doing what we normally do. Expecting nothing from others,  yet eternally grateful for kindness and compassion of those who generously showed they cared; just getting by the best we know how, with genuine optimism, with unwavering courage.

I immediately blogged this post with the intent of personal self discovery. What have I noticed. What have I overlooked. Right now as I do a mental review, press rewind in my mind, I'm recalling what my family has gracefully endured through and with my illness. The wife, the mother that once was, is no more. Yes, I'm here. I'm alive. In my naivety (and perhaps others as well), there was a drastic change.

Yet, my husband, my kids, they KNEW me before the health challenge. My son even shared when I asked him if he's read my blog, "the style, the topic of your writings remind me too much of your condition". Obviously I write completely different. I write from the point of view of someone adjusting and adapting to a different self. Seems as though, I have completely given up from trying to find "my voice". Sage's voice before the health challenge. Writing, expressing was so much easier, smoother then. My thoughts, my words, my speech, my cadence... It's a new me. Improved in some ways. Damaged, but not destroyed in others.

I'm sure those who knew me, see the new me now. Sometimes I wonder what they think. Hoping I'm nothing more than an inspiration, if anything. Strangers say they can't tell. Can't tell what?  I can hear, I can feel my differences. Oftentimes finding myself using the disclaimer mid speech, "I had a stroke..." when I feel my words are not as precise as they once were. Vocabulary less abundant or accurate. I worry sometimes I may sound lethargic or intoxicated.

Rebuilding, revamping is what they see, my family. Physically weaker but mentally stronger. Still the lamenting continues, only silently. Looking deeper into their eyes, I can see what they lost. And honestly, no time was had to grieve a loss. We all kept it moving. Meanwhile, we all lost something of value. Me, more independence, knowledge, energy, power and more. They lost Sage, a wife and mom that was a superwoman. We all have to relearn how to live with what's left. No time to dwell or feel sorry for predicament. Like my husband, my kids... keep going. And be thankful for what's still here, me.