Sleep is a good thing.
This afternoon I was crazed with all the tasks before me, the laundry is overdue, there is no food in the fridge and my husband said, “don’t think about it.” We opened a book and soon my body drifted from my mind, I was fooled into slumber. One of the sweetest forms of sleep is being tricked into it. A dreamful bliss, given by surprise, unplanned and an extra gift from the God above. Yes, I had a nap this afternoon!
I don’t like to talk much about having a heart condition, recently I have been making an attempt to be less afraid. Less afraid of people, of myself and being okay with all that I am: good, bad or neither. I think the biggest topic that has haunted me is the reality that I have a machine inside of me that keeps me alive. I often feel frail and weak, as if I cheated death and I am on borrowed time. Often we are oblivious that death is near. Not to be dramatic, regardless of my pacemaker I could die tomorrow. Are we to dwell on such realities? That life as we know and see it could end drastically leaving us with what and where? Sometimes I delight in knowing my life here has an end, death feels romantic. The sort of feeling you have before a first kiss or the first time you fall in love. It a visceral postulation that in time will become the current event.
I have an odd fascination with the concept of death. I used to love cemeteries, walking among the dead, knowing their souls were elsewhere but also feeling they had a secret and have experienced something I haven’t. Since my pacemaker, I have felt I am on borrowed time. Time that isn’t my own but belongs to the God who allowed me to stay alive for a while longer.
My fascination with such morbidity is unexplainable but I don’t want to be afraid of what awaits me. Every day is new and I want to embrace life or death whatever it will be. To not fear the failure that may await me but love the time that has been given to me.
