Sometimes, a good cry is the best medicine.

Posted on by

When C.C. calls to tell me I can’t come visit him, I cry.

I don’t know if these are tears of disappointment or relief. Maybe both.

My fear of taking Covid to him every time I walk through the hospital doors struggles against my desire to be there with him.

I think fear is clouding my thoughts, my vision, my being present.

I let the tears fall.

Sometimes, a good cry is the best medicine.

Unfortunately, the fact his ward is in lockdown because Covid is present doesn’t do much for my fear. But, when a nurse calls later to tell me about the lockdown and I thank her and tell her how grateful I am for their care of my beloved and how sorry I am they have to also endure Covid on the ward, she replies. “It’s okay. It’s happened before. We have good protocols.”

I tell her I wish there was something I could do and she replies, “Your understanding is all we need. We really appreciate people not getting angry about the lockdown.”

And I wonder, in the face of all the other things they’ve had to experience and endure these last two years, how often do they also have to deal with people’s anger?

Probably too often.

Which is when I realized how important it is to deal with my own stuff… BEFORE I deal with other people.

Dumping my angst, my anger, my frustrations, anything that makes someone else’s journey harder, on them doesn’t create ‘the more’ of what I want to create in the world — harmony, joy, peace, unity, community. Love.

And so, I let the tears wash away my angst and go back to chanting my mantra, “I walk in beauty now. Beauty lies before me. Beauty lies above me, below and behind me.”

C.C. is improving, though he had a setback yesterday in his oxygen levels, we’re hoping today they are righted and he is still on track to make his way home, to me (and Beaumont the Sheepadoodle)… to safety… to love… today.

And I smile when I see the word ‘safety’. While he is ‘safe’ there I know at home, now that his pneumonia is under control he will not only get well faster, he will most definitely be safer from this microbe that insists on appearing in all the wrong places.

Much gratitude for this morning, this day, the river that still flows in the spaces where ice is not covering its surface. The lights upon the bridge that cast brilliant ripples on the river’s flow and the warmth of our home wrapping me up in a welcoming blanket of safety and joy.

Namaste. It’s a good day to be alive.

26 thoughts on “Sometimes, a good cry is the best medicine.”

  2. Dear Louise,
    In your journey with C.C., personal as it is, we accompany you step by step, arms wrapped around you for comfort, support. Our shoulders take the weight of your tears, your fears. Our hearts feel the hope that today is the day. The sun is shining here in the Middle Kingdom as the cold Arctic air has swooped in for a visit, at least a week long one. I gaze out the window over a blanket of clean white diamonds against a backdrop of evergreen branches swaying in the breeze. Today is the day. Namaste!

    Liked by 1 person

    Reply ↓

  3. Sending along so much love for you both. Please let us know if there is anything we can do to help or support you both. This sounds like such a stressful time, but know that you are never alone!

    Liked by 1 person

    Reply ↓

  4. anything that makes someone else’s journey harder, on them doesn’t create ‘the more’ of what I want to create in the world – something so beautiful, needs to be quoted. You are such a kind pure beautiful heart to extend your caring regard for the medical staff who have to bear the brunt of overwhelming emotions of those they encounter daily. You spill beauty and love in this world while going through this personal experience. Sending you both healing energies, may the divine forces assist in speediest complete recovery and well being.

    Liked by 1 person

    Reply ↓

    • Your words are very kind and soothing Pragalbha. I find that focussing on kindness diminishes the angst so… I do what I can to diminish the angst! And I truly don’t want to leave ripples of angst anywhere! Some days it is an easy walk. Others, it takes more thought and consideration. Sending you warm ripples of gratitude and appreciation — and hopefully, C.C. will be home today!

      Liked by 1 person

      Reply ↓

  5. Dear Louise, wishing your beloved a prompt recovery. We are kind of used to these waves and lockdowns by now but they can be overwhelming worrying about a loved one who is vulnerable. It was incredibly generous of you to express your gratitude to that health care worker. Take it from me, you made her day. Much love ❤️

    Liked by 1 person

    Reply ↓

  7. I’ve been out of blog land for a few days and so am behind. I just read this one and then had to work my way backwards to catch up. I remember you saying he had lung issues – cold winters are so hard on lungs – but the timing to be in hospital. The worry and the what ifs. That you are able to find words and blog and write poetry. And not what if poetry! Thank you for appreciating the efforts of the health care providers – they need it as life has been hard for them. Take care of yourself and here is a HOPE that the next few days provide the relief CC needs so he can come home and recover. HUGS

    Liked by 1 person

    Reply ↓

    • Thank you Bernie — it has definitely been a journey! And I have to say that the health care workers have all been amazing! It’s the patients who have ‘attitude’! Hopefully he will be home today or tomorrow! Take care and happy new year! ❤

      Like

      Reply ↓

      • Thanks Bernie — he did have a couple on this journey for whom the weight of their exepriences deprived them of compassion but… mostly they were great. And… he will be home possibly today, for sure tomorrow! 🙂

        Like

  11. I love reading your blogs Louise as no matter what the topic, there is something in it for everyone! I am praying that CC recovers very well and is back home in your arms very soon! A good cry sometimes is just what is needed to wash away all the fears and unknowns and things we cannot control. In November my husband was just diagnosed with Myeloma 2 days before his 60th birthday. I will never forget that day..I was so angry, I cried for 2 solid days, I screamed, I wanted to destroy things…and then I thought…no…we have to team together to fight this! And that is what we are doing…we have been given a challenge of a lifetime and we are going to win…no other option! I pray for you both to be together in your home today!!!!

    Liked by 1 person

    Reply ↓

    • OH Mary. What a powerful story you share of love, resilience, hope and strength. I am sending you much love and many prayers and healing light. And if you ever want to chat, just DM me — I am just a phone call away! Hugs and love my friend.

      Like

      Reply ↓

Real conversations begin with your comments. Please share your thoughts.

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

Gravatar
WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. ( Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. ( Log Out /  Change )

Cancel

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.