Doing the Right Thing Even When It's Hard

The vicious cycle of making the hard decisions has run it's course once again.  I despise, with every fiber of my being, having to "play the tape" of every possible scenario in order to make the right decision.  My heart aches because the "right" thing isn't what I want to do!!  This is another example of what living with RSD is like.  Having to make those hard decisions on a daily basis.  And I'm sick of it!!!  However, I know that I always have a choice.  I can continue to be sick of it while doing it anyway, or I can give up and quit life.  For me, this is the only easy decision that exists in my world.

The world lost a great man this last week.  I first met Don when I was 5 years old.  My dad had just graduated from law school and Don offered him his 1st partnership in a small, southwestern Kansas town.  It was just Mom, Dad, and myself at the time.  We knew no one in that part of the state and Don (and his family) took us under his (their) wing(s).  Don and his wife had 3 children, the youngest of whom was in high school when we arrived.  All of a sudden this kindergartner had 2 "big brothers" and a "big sister," but Don became more of a grandfather figure to me than an "uncle."

Don was in his 80's and dementia had taken it's toll on his mind.  We knew that this day was coming, but that still doesn't soften the blow of his passing.  My heart breaks for my dad today, knowing that they are burying his longtime father-figure and I cannot be there with him.  This was my "hard decision."

And here's how I came to that decision ... We were to drive 5.5 hours on the 12th, attend the viewing, the funeral, and visit with friends and family.  We were to stay for 2 days and drive the 5.5 hours back on the 14th.  The Bombshell and the Munchkins are flying out for their Spring Break on the 18th and I had already set it up so that I would pick up my Ketamine spray refills today (the 13th) to ward off the anxiety of having to manage my meds while they're here.  I wouldn't have had enough spray from my last refill to make the trip ... which might have led to a flare that could have prevented me from being a part of next week's activities.  I am now 1 month away from my next series of bi-annual Ketamine nerve blocks and my spoon supply is growing more and more sparse while my recovery times grow longer.  But when Dad and I sat down and talked out all of the possibilities and all of the previously made plans, the smart decision became the hard one and all I could do was wave as Mom and Dad drove away (and then bury my face in Kiva's fur and bawl).

I will always remember Don!!  I will remember walking into his office and seeing his massive collection of elephants which, to a 5 year old, numbered in the thousands!!  I will remember dancing with him during the "Grandparents Dance" at my own wedding (even though the marriage ended, I have that happy memory)!!  I will always remember his cheesy smile and his nasally snicker of a laugh.  He will remain a hero in my eyes for the rest of my life ... my hero with a halo!!

I have faith that Mom and Dad will my express my deepest sympathies to the family in my absence.  I have faith that time will lessen the pain, even though the void will remain.  I have faith that I will have an amazing time with my sister, niece, and nephew next week.  I have faith that the circle of life will continue and the wisdom of the ages will be passed on to all of the Littles of the future generations.  And I have faith that I will continue to be the person that my Hero With A Halo believed me to be.  I owe him that much!!