Last week I wrote (far in advance) about being thankful for such wonderful weather all the way through November 10. Then last week, I had to look back at that post I'd scheduled to see if there was room to add something else for which I'm really grateful. Or if what I wanted to add would even be appropriate.
I decided to let that post stand on its own.
I then looked at the post I'd written the day I rode more than two miles faster than I've ever pedaled before. Most of my blog is done in advance because I don't always have adequate internet access, and sometimes work dominates my schedule. I scheduled last Tuesday's happy, cheerful cycling post for the week of Thanksgiving because that seemed most appropriate. The post still brings tears of joy to my eyes 31 days later when I read it, so I decided not to change anything. I decided to let that post stand on its own, too.
Nothing wrong with extending Thanksgiving into the following week, right? The holiday often gets glossed over by commercialized Christmas anyway. Something I read last week was so powerful, my reaction deserves its own post. My feelings on that poignant post deserve to stand alone.
Today's blog post actually begins the day before I read that touching piece when the weekly ezine RBR arrived in my inbox. In it was a news brief about a cyclist in Boulder who'd been hit by a car while training. She left 52 feet of skid marks trying to stop when the car pulled onto the highway in front of her, and she went through the driver's window. The short RBR brief included a link to a blog post about the accident written by the cyclist's boyfriend and now fiancé. I didn't have time to read the long (and graphic) blog post right then, so I sent the link to The Lizard. He's been working nights lately, and we don't get to see each other that much, so email has been our most important means of communication for a couple of weeks.
The next day, he sent that link back to me. "That's a very sad but strong story of survival," he commented.
I decided to take a minute and read it. If something moves him, I know it will have intense impact on me. After crying all the way through the boyfriend's blog post, I read the injured cyclist's own blog, and again, I couldn't stop crying.
Sometimes I am bitter about the pain in my back and the way it has hampered my life. Sometimes I am angry because my life has changed so much since emergency back surgery ten years ago and the bike accident two years ago that caused even more pain and grief. Sometimes I am impatient because healing and recovery take so darned long at this age.
After reading Adelaide's story, I really can't justify my negative emotions. I have known for a very long time many people fight more difficult battles than I do and struggle even longer than the decade I've put into surviving and attempting to overcome. But clouds roll in, and the pain gets worse. Or winter comes, and the pain gets worse. Or stress at work makes the pain so bad, I'm not sure I can make it through the day. And then I fall right back into that sad little place where I wish this had never happened to me and that I could have my real life back.
Thank you, Adelaide, for inspiring me to never give up and for reminding me that Thanksgiving needs to last 24/7, 365 days per year.