Yesterday marked three years since Brady’s surgery. Officially three years of Brady being paralyzed. Goodness. Those memories do not come without cost.
I don’t know why, but this is one of my favorite pictures ever from when Brady was in the hospital. We were so happy to be together. We both accidentally wore Office shirts. We look well. It’s a nice bright spot. How fortunate we are that none of the appearances here were put on for the camera. We LOVED each other so very much in this picture, and we still do. So very much. More than ever.
We did not dwell on Brady’s surgaversary yesterday. Not at all. We didn’t even talk about it until the afternoon. We worked hard yesterday. Thanks to a couple of willing friends with strong arms, we knocked a lot off the list, and after the work was done, Brady and I collapsed in the living room and sat quietly together for a little while. We didn’t get too deep into it, but I let him know my body was really feeling it.
It feels SO SELFISH to “suffer” with the memories of Brady’s surgery, but I did :/ I do. Yesterday, I felt pretty overdone before the day had even begun. Struggly. Short with the kids. Exhausted. It was just hard all around. I actually fell asleep in the middle of the day, which NEVER happens.
No one faulted me for it. But I am rarely tired enough to fall asleep in the daytime and then still sleep like a rock overnight. But yesterday was that day. I didn’t consciously feel sad about Bradys surgery and our time of change in there, but my body must’ve screamed and cried all day long.
This is jumbled. So am I. But I think thats ok. I’m just trying to make it known that I know I’m a bit of a mess 😅 I also know my best is good enough, and that grief is allowed to show up in the midst of me doing my best. And I trust that those who are truly invested in our family will not judge me or think I’m selfish. Body memory is a very real thing, and I’m navigating it the best I can.
Anyway. Happy three years post-op, Brady. Truly. HAPPY years. I love you more than you know.