Yesterday, with the help of a good friend I ran my first 15 km. I never thought I could run, let alone that much in my life. It left me breathing so heavily that in the end, I sprinted the last kilometer not because I had the energy but for it to be over.
Later than afternoon, I accompanied my mom to visit someone who was recovering from a cancer operation. We started talking about with disease just like life, is a constant battle of the mind and struggles can always be overcome. She broke down in tears while she was sharing that during her time in the hospital, the pain had become unbearable that she wanted it to be all over.
She felt so guilty to have gotten to that point, and what help her focus was that she remembered her four kids and her husband. She wanted to fight, live and grow with them.
My mother started to share how she was currently struggling trying to re-integrate herself in a home and with people she felt so dissociated from. More than thirty years she has not called her home her home, and now coming back seems so foreign. People’s behavior, attitude even choice of dialogue doesn’t make sense.
I remember as a teenager thinking that life was a struggle and no adult understood how complicated it was. As a young adult, I am starting to realize how naïve I was and that life is a constant struggle with multiple rewards.