its like that...

Do you remember being a kid and learning to swim?

I was thinking recently about how hard this test was for me....Swimming did not come natural...at all.
I remember being in my swim classes and watching as the kids around me were confident and ready....easy to teach and fast to learn... I watched as they laughed...and splashed....and swam...

All the while, I clinched my white knuckles around the side of the pool...afraid to loosen my grip.  When I would finally release my grasp, one finger at a time... I would struggle...in every way. It was terrifying.
I can see my scrawny arms and legs kicking frantically and flailing about, the ebb and flow of the water coming and going toward my face.....the heavy feeling of impending doom...I just could not get it.

I failed plenty of classes....and yet my mom continued to sign me up...hoping eventually I would get it.

The knot that forms when you fear you will drown is unmistakable. It's a feeling all its own. To look at everyone around you, and feel as though you are not seen....don't they notice? The fun that's being had, the life that's being lived....its hard to feel like you just can't swim...

I have felt like this so much lately.
Alone.
Struggling.
Drowning.

Its hard to pinpoint the wave that did me in....
health,
spirit,
relationships....
I don't know...honestly.

I have spent the last few years struggling with my own health...which isn't an easy thing for me.
I am used to...and good at...worrying about and advocating for my kids....Parklen especially. It comes natural for me....makes me feel as though I have a purpose... but worrying about myself comes last. Always.

The physical and emotional pain I have had this last year in particular have completely changed me. In ways I cannot describe well.

The change that has happened with Parklen has been different as well.  His checkups aren't the same...there isn't panic or urgency that happens there....  There is just a weird sense of treading water.
He is not as sick as he once was....nor is he whole.
He has his struggles still....physical and emotional...and the growing and seemingly flourishing body that carries him makes it hard to know this.

We wait.

I find it so hard to celebrate in the waiting as of late.
I can't let down my guard.
Breathe.

I did that before....and the pain was much more difficult when the frantic life returned...

So I pretend to breathe.
Let him live...
 almost let go of my worries...
but inside I hold on to that breath...never fully releasing it from my lungs...knowing that at any moment that other shoe could drop.  I take the brunt...let Parklen believe that things are fine...I don't want him to live in fear.... and for now, things are fine....

Parklen had a great school year... wonderful teachers that loved him and cared for him.
I took a back seat.
It was something I needed to do.....for him.

During prayer one night last summer, I had a thought..."Do you want Parklen to live longer or better?  and it really seemed like an obvious question....of course, I could protect him and keep him healthy...guard him and keep him home.... but is that any way to live?  What would his years mean?  So I decided I had to just let go of him a little bit more than I ever wanted to...
He missed a lot of school....but he went a lot too.  And he learned, and he grew...

I was sitting in the hospital last week for a checkup with Parky....all of a sudden the walls seemed to be closing in...my chest felt heavy...the air hard to find. There wasn't any urgency or panic in the appointment itself....just routine... But the memories flooded in and that's all it took.
Spending time with a family that we met during Parklen's transplant....that is now navigating the waters of their son's most recent relapse...remembering the struggle they had then, and seeing it fresh...

I cried more last week than maybe the 50 before that..combined.....and Ive cried twice that this week.

As a kid...my mom persisted...she drove me to lessons summer after summer...paying the money...sitting in the bleachers...until one day..... I swam....  Years later I would join the swim team...and even work as a life guard...swimming became something I loved....something I could do... but those years of struggle still remain fresh in my mind.

While I struggle today...looking around at everyone....living...smiling...laughing....I know that one day....I will swim again.  This struggle cannot last.... for I know the creator of the very water in which I live....The creator of heaven and earth...holds me, sees me....and most importantly...loves me... that has to be enough.. When I feel like the waves in my mind aren't understood by those that love me...or the struggle with my body has to take a back seat to the every day...I have to trust that when no one else can see....He does...it has to be enough... it is enough.