Whether you realize it or not, you’ve had a front row seat to the slow loss of my sanity over the past 3 months. Oh, it wasn’t just Ethan, or the implosion of the real estate market, or the slow, painful demise of a business we had nearly killed ourselves to build… I guess it was all of that and all the little tiny things that come along with that.

All along I fought it, held on with a white knuckle grip that even a first time roller coaster rider cannot muster. I dug in with my heels in what felt like a life or death tug of war game with the universe itself. There have been moments where breathing was an exercise in endurance when the weight of the world crushed down on my shoulders.

I don’t know when it happened or exactly how. I tend to go back to this moment in the exam room with Ethan perched on the end of the table while I sat there in a chair both of us looking at the new doctor as he conveyed the next step in this process, another surgery. But, somehow he brought a new energy to our cause, his approach is enthusiastic, matter of fact, and pointed. This was not something we had experienced and somehow, for the first time, the unknowns were simply spelled out, there weren’t hundreds of them waiting in line to see which might be visited upon us, there were only three and the cause and effect were simply spelled out in clear, do-able language.

I remember almost hearing an audible click as if a final gear or element had dropped into place. Somehow, even with a new surgery looming in front of us, I felt at peace with the situation for the first time ever. It’s not that there haven’t been tough moments since then. It’s me that has changed and I don’t know how or why, I just surrendered. I just started moving along with the process instead of trying to hold on tight and control it, or rather freak and implode over the lack of control I really had over the situation.

I feel a little like a guy who is laying in the water screaming that he can’t swim and then coming to the realization that the water is only hip deep. That’s how I feel today anyway, this time next week when I am in a hotel room or at the hospital with Ethan, the feeling might be completely different.

Don’t get me wrong, there are still things I can’t manage right now. I’ve just learned to put out the current fire and that it is perfectly acceptable to take a damn nap when you are tired.

I’m not sure if this is really living, but at least I can stand in the water instead of fighting to tread it nonstop.

Today is a better day than last week or last month.