Hanging by a thread...

I am a scrapbooker. Not by professional, of course. But it's a hobby. In fact, it's therapy. While my children enjoy seeing their faces around the house, the journaling I put on the pages is for me. Some of it is hidden, and some is in plain view. But it is my catharsis. I thumb through the pictures of their infancy, and decide how to best show their personalities while also doing justice to my need to process what it was like to mother them at that stage of their lives. That child for who they were as I saw them then.

Six months ago I scrapped this beautiful picture of my vibrant Ilan:

The title is Hanging By A Thread.
The text reads: Who makes up these expressions anyways? Don't they know what they really mean? Keeping your head above water is just one breath away from going under. And hanging by a thread is only one fragile break from falling in to the abyss. 
Or maybe that's exactly what it means.
I'm fighting medication changes. Sedation. Migraines. Dry mouth. Back pain. Shoulder pain. Weight gain. These days it feels like I'm fighting everything. And hanging on by a mere thread.
So it's a good thing I use heavy-duty string. 
Today, this picture is my thread. Those beautiful eyes looking out at me, the smile, that impish grin, frozen in place, planning his next move, next adventure.
For today that will have to be enough.

It has been a hard year for me. What I wrote 6 months ago still stands. Pain. Too much pain. Too much medicine rigamarole, on top of real life as a mom of three with a husband in grad school. But it hasn't all been bad. We've had lots and lots of happy days too. Playing together, cooking together, learning together. Personal accomplishments. Awards and professional recognition. Many fewer diapers, many more books read, a gangly tall child with a karate belt and a loose tooth, and two parents who gave shiurim to the kehila this summer. And cinnamon rolls. Lots of those too.

I can't get back the last 6 months of lost blogging. Funny things the kids have said that I've forgotten. Wise things I've thought in the night that have gone the way of lost dreams and memories. But I still have those eyes grinning at me every day, as well as two other sets, and for today that will have to be enough.

If you're still here checking once in a while, thank you, for believing that one day I'd be back.