There is a vase of cheap daisies very quickly dying on my table.
I normally care but tonight I don't.
I just can't be bothered.
Tonight, I'm tired and feeling broken.
I feel like the dying daisies, like I'm sinking into the browning water with withering leaves.
I feel sad about my 91 year old adopted grandfather and dearest friend who died a few months ago. I miss him terribly. My visits with him were so special and there is a gaping hole where he once was.
I miss gigging. I was my outlet creatively and socially. I miss having conversations about tunes, upcoming releases and gigs I'd either dream of playing at or catching.
I miss the energy I had to walk around the block every morning. Now even with beta blockers twice a day I can't do it without nearly passing out with a heart rate exceeding 150bpm and needing to come home and sleep for hours and hours.
I miss the ability I had to leave my house without thinking about how close the nearest toilet was. Yes. This is actually how I have to think now and it is incredibly demoralising.
I'm slowing facing the fact that I may not (if ever) for a long time set my feet on Fijian soil (not just because of Covid but because the hospital system in Fiji would more than likely not cope with my medical needs). This is too hard to face. I can't think too long on it. My entire family on my Dad's side lives there. Every single living soul and the possibility that until I breathe my last, I will be separated from our family, our land and culture.
I miss seeing my sisters, my SIL and my parents.
I miss sinking my feet into the beach and taking long drives.
I miss the feeling of contributing financially to my family even though I'm grateful for my husband's job, incredible work ethic and God's constant provision.
I miss fitting into old clothes because steroids (although amazing) also affect weight, swelling and nothing I used to wear fits anymore.
I miss just doing what I wanted energy-wise.
I miss the days when I'd wake up and not have to think about taking the 21 pills I now take each day.
Sigh.
Sigh.
Sigh.
Sometimes I feel like the dying vase of daises on my table is doing better than me and I don't want that to be the case.
I am determined to not sink into the browning water of life with the withering leaves of this body.
I am determined to bloom once more. I will try my best to wait well in the wilderness.