You would think we would be used to the waves of sadness that washes over all of us.
You would believe that we would be immune to the sudden tension that hits us all.
The haunting sound of her sobs and cries for help echoes in the house. It resonates down the attic stairs, through the hallways and makes itself comfy within the cavity of our slow beating hearts. The murmuring of words and the gasps of air hit us sharply and keep us on our toes. Even the cat and the dog understand the importance of staying quiet.
Our sadness will be the blankets that keep us warm tonight. We will wear helplessness as our only pajamas and we will dream of a new day.
The date of my MRI looms closer and I begin to the feel the new reality that is on the horizon. I am afraid again. This MRI will help me determine whether there is any active inflammation in my brain and spinal cord. And an official diagnosis can then be determined. This summer will be a redefining moment in my early adulthood and I’m not so sure if I’m ready to do this on my own.
So I keep holding my breath.