slow [moments]

 

[moment 29]

Living life on autopilot is something that I used to do on a regular basis. I had a horde of small children in my care, activities, appointments, errands, and all the other things. Much of it is a blur. There are moments here and there that I treasure in my heart, but I don't remember much about the little things. 

Then chronic illness forced me to slow down, and for that I'll be forever thankful. 

I now remember many sunrises and sunsets from days of great joy and those of great pain. Somehow sunrises are just as beautiful when I get up early to see the sunrise over Lake Ossipee from a kayak and when I see it rise over my neighbors' house after a painful and sleepless night. I remember sunsets over the highway on the way home from an outing with my family or a day of medical testing. 

I remember moments hanging out with my kids in my bed when I'm having a really rough day and moments out and about on better days. 

Because I've slowed down, I have time for my brain to process and treasure these moments. I have time to plan things and rest my body the days before so I can enjoy them. I have the ability to change plans when my body isn't cooperating. I can focus on doing what is important to my family with my family. And many of those moments now stay with me.