We are born, and then we start to die. Have you ever thought you were dying? Maybe it was on the highest, fastest roller coaster around. Maybe you were having a gall bladder attack. Maybe you were pinned under an automobile, not sure if help would come. Maybe it was when a spider suddenly dropped down on your shoulder. Whenever it was, one thing is certain. You were wrong, or you wouldn’t be reading this!
Life is short. Don’t waste it. If you live with chronic pain, whether from an injury, or from some chronic condition, there may be hours or days when you wish you would die. Or at the least, be relieved of your pain. Quite probably, you are also living with depression. Diagnosed or not, the constant pain, fatigue, dark moods, changes in your sleep, feelings of despair, uselessness, unworthiness, and loneliness are all symptoms. Doctors tell me depression is a chemical imbalance, and I’m all balanced now. But every time I have a negative thought, or a get sad or feel like crying, or the pain is almost more than I can bear, I am afraid the depression is coming back. Sometimes I really think I want to die. It would be so much easier on my family. Then I think about being around my family and friends. I want to live to be ninety-three!
Like sands through the hourglass. . . Ah, the days of the soap operas. Although there were many on TV in the late 60s, the only soap I watched was The Days of Our Lives. When Kenny and I were married, we continued to watch. I found out I was pregnant the same week one of the stars found out she was pregnant. I knew nothing about pregnancy, so I thought I could learn from TDOL. As my pregnancy, all day sickness and swelling belly progressed, the star was barely showing. Fast forward: my baby was six months old before the star gave birth. Disenchanted, I still stuck with TDOL off and on for a few years. When the TV baby aged from five to thirteen in a single summer break, the romance was over. As I was learning, sometimes the days were long, but the years were short. My own sons grew up much faster than I was expecting. They finished high school, dated, and slowly fell in love with their best friends. They each married, and now I have five grandchildren. When my health is really bad, I fear I won’t live to see them all grown, married, and perhaps parents. But I have another example.
My blessed mother-in-law, Mamie, is now 98 years old. She is in excellent health, so she may get to have Willard Scott show her picture on a jar of jelly in a couple of years. If the Lord allows, she may live to be 110 or 115, which would make her one of the oldest living people. I hope she stays healthy and lives long. My husband wants to be 105, and my sons are counting on her genes. Our youngest granddaughter at three sashays around the house, loves necklaces, and holds her hand up in a prissy pose, just like her greatgrandmother. That’s watching the sands measure the generations. Life is good.