If you click on this thread you must post on it...

I'm kind of learning that myself with my wife, who is currently battling chemo fog and fatigue, although her motor skills, which improved during her last respite from chemo, are more or less holding their own. My being a primary caregiver might indeed be a third thing.

Being a caregiver is tough. 🫂 Glad to hear your wife is persevering. I hope this continues for her. (Sorry, I know nothing about chemo, but I was one of the caregivers for my grandma, who had dementia ... which is a trial of its own).
 
but I also don't personally believe anyone should be defined by their darkest days.

That's just it. They were the most meaningful days. The summer before he died was the very best time of our lives. We spent hours talking about all the things that matter most. We said everything to each other we had to say. He told me what I meant to him, and I told him what he meant to me. We were so happy, just to be together. I will carry that happiness with me always. We grew the closest together just before he had to go.

And it left me with the things that define me now - like deep gratitude, and a real need to give as much as I can.
 
I headed off to work at the library this morning and ended up turning around and coming home since I felt about half crummy. Did some longhand writing and realized I need to do more of this. I connect with the story better with pen and paper. Writing on a computer always feels a bit too much like editing.
 
I've returned to the thing I started during the month of "write furiously." I've been slow to get back to it but have a few things that are itching, with an uncomfortable sense of excitement to try to finish it.
 
I headed off to work at the library this morning and ended up turning around and coming home since I felt about half crummy. Did some longhand writing and realized I need to do more of this. I connect with the story better with pen and paper. Writing on a computer always feels a bit too much like editing.
I wish I could do longhand. My brain is faster than my hand so I abbreviate, and then I get sloppy, and then I have no idea what I was trying to say.

Hope you feel better.
 
Back
Top