Gratitude and Hope

If there is one benefit to being sidelined in this Rat Race of a life, it’s that you have the time to sit back and honestly assess what you’ve accomplished and whom you have in your life. Here’s a little chunk of that assessment.

I’m certainly lucky to have Wendy (and my sister-in-law Barb) in my corner. When I am punch drunk and on the ropes from trying to absorb the bad news from Doctors, they are by my side holding their shit together, peppering the Doctors with questions and getting the information I need…and then some. Sometimes Wendy reminds me of that dog in movies that catches the perpetrator and just won’t let go. No matter what. The guy is screaming, waving his arms in surrender but that dog just won’t stop. It’s good to have someone like that on your side. In this case, on my side. So thank-you. I know I don’t say it enough.

And Barb. The consummate researcher who is looking everything up for me and unknowingly keeping me off Google and the horrors I can find delving into questionable websites. I don’t know where she finds the time to do this research, being as busy as she is. I know I am in good hands. Thank you.

One source of hope and inspiration is my son Zach. He probably doesn’t even know it. Eighteen months ago, I couldn’t imagine ever writing a sentence like that about Zach. He was an emaciated drug addict and everything that comes with that condition. Thanks to his efforts and The Last Door Recovery Centre, I have my son back. And he is pretty awesome. I am still amazed at the changes he has made. I didn’t believe it possible 12 months ago. I stuck with him through that journey and have met some truly awesome people along the way. People I would have never otherwise met. I am really grateful for that.

To be diagnosed with cancer 2 days after Zach’s official 1 year of sobriety was a huge kick in the nuts. I was really angry and of course devastated. I found it unfair and felt sorry for myself…briefly. Because feeling sorry for oneself doesn’t help anyone. I dug deep and found inspiration in the unlikeliest of places. My memories of New Westminster Narcotics Anonymous meetings. Yup. I did. Stories of people battling something intangible and not giving up. Suiting up and fighting everyday. One day at a time. And eventually winning. That’s inspiring.

So I remind myself that there are over 7 billion people in the world today and I guarantee, without any doubt, that there are a lot of people that have it worse than me. A lot worse. I am surrounded by great friends and family. So I am grateful. I have a lot to fight for. And I never give up.