In between appointments, we rest. Sometimes, instead of eating dinner, we rest. Often, instead of washing the dishes or folding the laundry, we rest. In the last 10 months, Mark has had four surgeries that were all cranio-somethings and included ear to ear incisions. He’s had his skull base reconstructed. He’s had part of his skull removed. He’s had a thigh muscle transplanted from spot A to spot B. He’s had to recover over and over again. Regain strength. Sustain a will to do so.
This afternoon, we watched the next episode of “Lost.” Jack, the main character whose hero status hides a deep cavern of insecurity, trips and ends up plummeting over a cliff. At the last second, he grabs a root and dangles over the edge. “I don’t think he falls,” Mark turned to me to say. “I think he finds the strength within himself to pull himself back up.” The scene played on. John Locke is suddenly there, lying on his stomach, reaching to grab Jack’s hand. Together, Jack scrambling and clawing, and John straining and pulling, Jack makes it back to the top.
Sometimes struggle is loud. Sometimes, it is very, very quiet.
This week was better. In between the struggling, we rested.