Sucker punched by love

That feeling you get, the feeling that literally makes you feel like you just took a sucker punch to the gut.  I wouldn’t know the feeling because I have a really great way of letting people know that it’s a bad call to punch me (with one brief accidental incident, Bets) Also I’ve been told my mom is super scary, but mostly I live in a classy suburb with only mild fights happening is schools that usually end up with earrings and hair pieces on the floor but I didn’t wear earrings or hair pieces in high school so, obviously I never participated in sucker punching fights.

But back to my scary mom for a second. Or like a paragraph or so.  My mothers joy and love radiates from her like the sun radiates light, pretty freakin’ awesome.  There was never, and is never a question in my mind of my mothers love for life in general and her spouse, children and newest addition to the fam- grandson.   I know that I am loved and I know that she loves me so unconditionally that it’s sometimes hard to comprehend.  So how can love be sucker punched into you if you already are immersed in it everyday?

Let me tell you how, bro.

So if you know me at all you know I went through a rather short life altering, sidewalk-smacking-me-in-the-face reality check.  I had a whole slew of health issues that turned out just fine, however living through those moments I didn’t know what my future held.. so it was much more dramatic then than it is now.  Everyday since returning back to a normal slice of life I look back to my recovery years, my physical emotional, and spiritual recoveries.  Lately the theme of my reflections are love, unconditional, ever powerful love.  I am loved.  I thought I knew this well until I found myself getting a blood transfusion in a hospital bed the day after I coded while trying to leave a hospital.  I don’t remember much from those few days, I was in and out of sleep and the only reason I was ever out of sleep was to argue about using the bathroom or arguing about eating. However I remember those days as terrifying, unsettling and yet peaceful.  I wasn’t down for more than a few minutes at most but I remember having peace. Peace with the life I lead and that if I didn’t wake up it was for a reason. I fulfilled my purpose if I died and I was at peace with that.  But I’m alive still, so my purpose has not been fulfilled and I am jubilant to still be here.  When people asked me about that I never say much, I don’t want to say “Hey I was at peace if I died, but I didn’t so we all good”. I didn’t want to say that because my mother (and later) father who were standing in the room when I coded didn’t feel much peace about their 21 year old daughter coding.  For those moments I was coding my mother was inches from my face pleading with me to open my eyes, something that for as long as I live will never forget. Her nervously stroking of my hair and her terrified tone in her voice. She just wanted to see the whites of my eyes to know I was okay.  When I started to cry hysterically without opening my eyes my parents had to be escorted out of the room.  The next day I woke up feeling considerably better with a fuzzy memory and I was awaiting a blood transfusion.

This was over two years ago, I’m still feeling the affects of this sucker punch.  I am loved, God placed me in a home of unconditional love that was evident from day 1 all the way until now even though I’ve put my parents through the ringer that one time in the hospital. They say life is too short to be hung up on the bad times, and I understand this better more and more with each passing day.  I’m still alive, I’ve got only mild environmentally polluted oxygen to exchange with my CO2 in my lungs, I’ve got a super awesome family and friends that choose to love me which is actually really beautiful. I have the ability to recognize the beauty of life which can be a rare ability today.

Today I am good.

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