My half-moon desk sits in the middle of a turret in the front of my house, tall windows surrounding me. It is eerily dark and quiet this morning. Not a sound inside or out, not even a car with headlights driving by. Wait, to the left of my desk can be heard the faint sound of a dog barking far, far away. Three or four times before silence again.
The last few days I’ve been feeling mixed emotions. Whenever I turn the calendar to see “February,” I begin to enter two worlds in a way, a sort of suspended animation until the next month rolls around. It’s my oldest son’s “Birthday” month. He is one of the two very best gifts in the world God ever gave to me. Six years and nine days after his birth, “Chronic Illness” sneaked into my life for the very first time. It happened on a day in February, too, the last one of the month.
This year it will be twenty-two that we have lived with diabetes. I say “we,” because a chronic illness affects the entire family. For the child or adult who is diagnosed with the condition, their world is altered forever. My exuberant son’s life with diabetes is now shared with his loving wife, toddler daughter, and soon to be born, baby boy.
My son can never “take a break” from diabetes. He lives, breathes and sleeps with it. Yet, he never complains. He never did. From his very first shot of “life-support”, we thanked God for our tomorrows, focusing on the future, rather than the past. It hasn’t been easy, and yes, there have been many tears throughout the years. Still, the good always outweighs the bad. One step at a time, one day until the next.
Through all of this my son has had the most positive attitude I’ve ever known. He is a happy guy, smiling whenever I see him. Whatever God whispered into his ear that day long ago, he’s let shine through his kind warm heart every day since then. If you’re lucky enough to know him, you have a friend forevermore.
We’ve been told by the news and the radio to stay home today. Another storm is expected to hit. This too shall pass. Like life, I guess.