15 years

180 months

782 weeks and 5 days

5479 days

It’s been 15 years since my stroke. 15 years.

If me and the stroke were married, we’d be exchanging crystal for our anniversary.

Almost every year since then I have posted to Facebook a message about valuing life and holding close the people who you love. (You should probably check out my Plane Wheel List blog too.)

This year feels a little different. It’s hard to celebrate with so much going on. It’s hard to celebrate in the midst of mourning. It’s hard to celebrate when my heart hurts so much and my future looks so gray.

I’m sure I have written in a dozen places what the stroke was like. It was confusing and terrifying and I felt so helpless.

And how the journey back was an experience that changed me, how I began to appreciate my world, my friends, my husband at the time (who never got the appreciation he deserved for all he did for me), my dog, and myself.

This year does not hold the same feeling that constitutes gratitude and celebration.

This year has been full of pain and loss. This year, instead of moving forward and being grateful for the time I’ve been given, I’ve questioned why I am even here. I’ve questioned if I’m supposed to be here at all. I still do actually. Daily.

And then I went to the doctor and received a new diagnosis. One that seems to make me question what I did with the 15 years I was given.

I’m having a hard time being grateful and finding the silver lining. I mean, if I had known…

I am faced with a choice every day. My fear pulls me to the sadness and away from myself. My heart, however, is trying to be strong – perhaps the only strong part of me anymore – and it slowly pulls me back to the me I have always been.

I’m so scared. I’m scared until I remember the other option. The other option is hope.