The Cure for Anything is (salt)Water

Last Saturday, on the longest day of the year and the official start of summer, Andy and I found ourselves at the lake with some friends chasing those precious last rays of daylight across the water.

As the evening waned on, I found myself snuggled up to my friend’s three-year-old daughter, Camille, at the bow of the boat. We were both mesmerized by the sunset and Camille kept grabbing for the camera around my neck to snap a few more shots of it. With nothing but the water rippling in front of us and the orange sun above, I could appreciate that sensation of “flying” that Rose felt in that iconic scene in the movie Titanic. I kept wishing the sun would stay up longer so I wouldn’t have to leave the comfort of all the lapping water all about me. It was right about then that a quote by Ernest Hemingway flashed through my mind: 

“The cure for anything is saltwater—sweat, tears, or the sea.” 

Given all that life has handed me these past few months, it makes perfect sense that this was the quote that came to mind. And all of those things—sweat, tears, and water (a.k.a. the sea) have proved, on more than one occasion, to heal me.

Sweat

Over the past few years, I have found a solace in bicycling and pushing my body to its limit by the number of miles I’ve dared to ride. Last year I completed 100 miles in a single day. And while I don’t care to think about the amount of sweat actually shed on that or any of my rides, I do know that the effort and sweat it took to accomplish them purged and healed me of a multitude of things. One of the things I’ve longed to do since the news of Andy’s MS hit is to go for a good, long bike ride. I know that nothing will be any different when I get back from riding, but inside I know I will feel better about everything.

Tears

Shedding tears is often considered a sign of weakness. Truth be told, I have believed that most of my life, which is why I so seldom cry in front of people. But the truth is that sometimes you need to cry in order to get to a stronger place. Crying is a way of relieving some of the strain caused by a burden you carry in your mind, heart or body. I haven’t allowed myself to cry very much about Andy and our situation because I don’t see any point in wallowing in sadness over something I can’t change. But I have cried briefly a few times to simply relieve some of the tension and frustration built up inside me. And crying those few tears gave me the strength back I needed to keep moving forward and not be consumed by my sadness.

Montana Seas

Much to my detriment I’m sure, I have only seen the ocean a couple of times in my life. But living in Montana I am blessed by an abundance of mountain rivers and lakes around me. They might not contain salt water, but they surely are pure. I grew up swimming and playing in these waters, and even though their chilly temperatures are often tough to bear, I always feel refreshed and better about the world when I pull myself up and out of that water. When I’m not playing in the water, I’m listening to it rush and bubble along in a streambed near my campsite in the summer. Or watching it roll in gentle waves in front of me like I did that night boating. I can’t visit the ocean where I live, but I can appreciate the purity and peacefulness of the waters we do have flowing here.

Saltwater, or any water for that matter, undoubtedly has healing powers in it. As we drove the boat back to the dock that night, I kept pondering Hemingway’s quote and the magnificence of water. Perhaps what I love most about any water substance is that it is ever changing…..much like life. That night I took comfort in that fact more than any other. No matter how terrible life might seem at times, that period will eventually flow and change into something else. All of us just have to keep moving forward trusting that the tides will eventually turn. 

Love is a Choice....Not a Feeling

A few weeks ago at church, the priest made an interesting statement during his homily. I found it intriguing at the time, but in the weeks that followed my life underwent several dramatic shifts and caused his words to assume an even greater significance and meaning for me.

He said that “Love is a choice, not a decision.”  His point was that love, be it Christ’s love or any other kind, is an act of will…..a conscious choice. It does not sprout up spontaneously; it must be practiced.

Logically speaking, this seems to make sense. But when you are faced with major decisions and challenges in your life concerning those people you think you love, those are the moments of truth where you realize whether your love for them is based purely on emotions or on a resounding choice of devotion.

Just as the sun was beginning to drift lower into the sky on the evening of May 16, my boyfriend of over 8 years got down on one knee and asked me to marry him. He proposed on the field at Carroll College, which is where we first met. Being proposed to is that moment that most girls dream about their whole lives. And even though we have been together for nearly a decade, it was still one of the most shocking moments of my life. I said “yes” almost instantly, but my decision to marry him is one that has taken nearly every single day of our 8 years together to reach.

I am someone who loves quickly and fully. But my loves are often rooted deeply in emotional aspects. You need far more than lovey dovey emotions in order to make a marriage with another person last, however. It wasn’t long into our relationship that I realized I loved him in the emotional sense.  But it took me years to realize that Andy was the best person for me and that we had what it would take to make a marriage last. I had to CHOOSE to love him every single day, through good times and bad, and to do what was necessary to keep our relationship together. I had already made my choice to love him and when he asked me to marry him, the “yes” I responded back with affirmed that choice----not only to marry him, but to love him.

Eight days after Andy proposed, I found myself hunched over in a chair in a hospital room waiting for results to come back from an MRI the doctors ordered for him. He had woke up that morning with double vision and the fear in his face told me something was seriously wrong and he needed medical attention. After what felt like an eternity, the doctor came back in and told us we needed to see a neurologist soon because something was definitely not right. As ashamed as I feel to admit it, my engagement ring felt like a lead weight on my finger in that moment knowing that no matter what would come to pass, I had chosen to love Andy for life and that meant loving him through anything.

Two weeks later, after making countless phone calls to schedule appointments, spending hours sitting in doctor’s offices, and watching Andy endure a second MRI, blood work, and steroid infusions, we had a diagnosis. The doctor’s determined that he had Multiple Sclerosis (MS). It is a chronic illness for which there is not yet a cure. It is a highly manageable illness with newer and more effective treatments being developed constantly. The diagnosis is upsetting but we are positive and are determined to make this a part of our lives rather than letting it define our lives.

It makes me angry that I don’t get to enter into our nuptuals with the same kind of “happily ever after” and blissfully unaware glow that so many people have. But I feel so incredibly fortunate that I get to enter into the sacrament of marriage prepared and aware that love is not a feeling. It is a choice. It’s a choice you have to make every day. Emotions are easy to have. Life altering choices are not so easy. That awareness is how I know our marriage will survive things others won’t and that we’ll find a way to smile at the end of days where others would have nothing but tears.

I was nothing but positive when it was first suggested to us that he might have MS because I knew all the way through to my bones that God had prepared me well for this trial. The burden of this illness falls just as much on me, as Andy’s future spouse, as it does on him. But it’s a challenge I know I can take on. It has taken me most of my life to learn that God does not deliver the hardest battles and the heaviest crosses to bear to those who deserve them. He gives them to those he knows can handle it. It is a blessing from God really to have challenges befall you. It is something to get down on your knees and thank God for. Because it means that He has more faith in you than others.  It means He knows you will rise back up after falling when others would stay knocked down. On more than one occasion in the past few weeks I have turned my eyes skyward and thanked God for all the times life tried to break me because without them, I wouldn’t have the strength to carry out my choice to love Andy through better and worse….in sickness and health.  

So to this and all that life will bring us in the days ahead, we are ready! And we intend on taking it all on side by side and with smiles of hope on our faces.