Personal journal entry 10 01 2016 Anniversary day

Personal journal entryOctober 1, 2016

Saturday

 I wait at the red light watching a lone pigeon in the intersection. It is running back and forth as I watch. It goes forward, backwards and as traffic begins to move it runs until it has to fly. The bird has waited until the last moment to fly away from the danger of oncoming vehicles. The scene of this lone bird in it’s indecision holds itself inside my mind as I drive to the house. The plumbers are waiting for me to let them into the garage for electrical access for their tools. Our water main broke, bubbling water up under the edges of the foundation while sounding like a hose had been left on.

 My dog, so excited to greet me punches me in the stomach with her claws while trying to ‘hug’ me with her front legs. These past 6 weeks have held a lot of moments where I was separated from this incredible PTSD companion dog who has helped me through the worst of moments. My screams in the night became softer and finally non existent due to her presence on my bed while I tried to sleep. She and her little dog buddy run outside to do their business and to bark at the activity.

 My mind goes back to the pigeon in the intersection running back and forth. It is only as I stand there looking out the window the realization of what today is hits me. It is our anniversary day. The day I had met with such joy, such excitement in the day and one I still hold pictures in my hands to look at during private moments. In spite of such huge body differences as it was long before I lost well over 200 pounds, these pictures are of me. A smiling, happy me and our silliness in wedding gown, tuxedoed and a shotgun in his hand. All the silliness and smiles possible.

 I think back about the experience of being so treasured, loved and respected for such a short time. My mind has become a minefield of these moments, especially at this time of the year. So many losses, so many happy times, loving times and many moments I wish I could never remember.

 The thought of the pigeon running back and forth only brought home to me all the moments of indecision. The traumatic brain injury, in these times of extreme stress causes me to lose the less important things. I lose track of what day it is, what time it is and sometimes even where I am at the moment. Really, are these things important? My brain does not believe so.

 In the end there is only now, this moment. I still say this is a gift beyond measure to be able to fully understand this truth.

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