I was thinking about all of you and how this blog reaches more than a hundred countries. With all the strict and rigid rules governing access to planes and through airports and across borders, you’d think that maybe brain injury could be caught and held and detained and kept.
But no.
It reaches every tiny corner of our globe. Like heartache, like cancer, like flu, like need, like hunger, like depression, like despair, like everything else.
It reaches.
And so we reach, too. Out to our families and friends, our communities, our doctors. Each other.
We reach.
Hello to you in India, to England and Sweden. Sending warm thoughts to you in Canada and all the way to New Zealand and Australia. Hola, Mexico and our Spanish-speaking friends. Warm sentiments to you in Germany, in France, in South Korea and in every nation where brain injury waits snickering.
As I get older, more friends and family members now report their daily struggles. Nagging pains and strange symptoms. New meds and more doctor appointments.
I am aware, with each passing year, how extraordinary you are, we are. That we have battled all of these symptoms in our daily lives for all of these years.
Most people will, hopefully, never fully get us. We are all guilty, I suspect, of looking for understanding when we should simply be grateful for compassion and cheer and acceptance and help.
I’m so blessed to enjoy so many wonderful people in my life who, even after all these years, still come by to make sure my lightbulbs are working and that I’m not climbing up on ladders to change them.
Simple gifts of love.
Wishing you all simple gifts of love. Of feeling like you are warmly cared for and thought of. Know I am warmly thinking of all of you. From here to every corner of our globe that this stupid injury has touched.
Hopefully you feel the touch of love and compassion, as well. xo