It was told to me that there were things I couldn’t do that were important.
Being told that… hearing that? Crushes a part of you that can never really be brought back or fixed.
I think about those words and sentiments a lot. Some days those words collapse me. Utterly.
Yesterday those words helped me pull another, heavier wagon filled with two 24 bottle cases of my water and some of my groceries.
It was harder and heavier than anything I’ve physically had to move as of late.
I relished in the physical activity of it, in using my body in a way I haven’t in a long time.
Those words and sentiments echoed in my ears as my night aide became stomach sick and I used my hands to fix her a cup of tea, put it in the microwave, heat it, then use my dish rag around the handle to carefully tote it to her.
This body and these hands have done and continue to do a lot.
It’s a shame I am so under-estimated.
Such a shame.