Worth the wait

This is a blog about me. It is about what I thought Jan was going through during her ordeal.

In reality, I don't have the slightest idea of what it is to be unable to move half of my body, or be on constant pain, or not to have 20% of my brain, or be unable to express my ideas in simple words , or be the object of curiosity, interest, love and neglect, all at the same time.

No. I could not even start imagining what it is to go through what Jan has gone through. She often reminds me of this. So, I have no claim to be able to report about what goes on inside of Jan, or how she looks at the world from inside her broken body.

This blog was in many occasions the only way I had to express my feelings, so I would not burst in desperation and hopelessness. But this isn't an apology. We both are the survivors of an incredible journey of blood, pain, dark days, hope hanging by a thread, that I wish no one else would have to experience. It is also about our amazing capacity for love that can only be uncovered under critical circumstances. I wish we could just love and be loved without the pain... but we all know that there is no love without it share of pain...

I am a survivor. My injury was emotional. The woman I chose to love was broadsided by her own blood. She was comatose, between life and death; but she didn't let go. She survived. Then, she had to start from square one.

I had been married to the woman for four months. I had courted her for four months. I didn't know her well, and yet, the moment she went into the ambulance, I knew we had to go though this time together and stay together.

So, I stand here, almost three years after our wedding, asking myself what is normal? How does it feel to be married to a normal person? Am I normal? What is normality anyway?Jan is as normal (with a few words less) as anyone else. I am beaten up, a post-traumatic survivor, as normal as anyone else. We both laugh, cry, fight with each other and then embrace and comfort each other, like any other couple.

She would've liked the path to have been shorter. She would like to be already there. But she has to wait. Brain time is not the same as our time. Hers is working all the time, fixing, patching, moving, re-programming, learning at its own pace.

I would've liked the path to have been really short, only a few hours or days, perhaps. I would like to enjoy life at its fullest with my wife. But I have to wait for her. That is the path.

I empathize with Jan. I wish I could share some of her physical pain, lend her some words to ease her frustration, give her my leg so she culd run wherever she wants. But on a clear day, I know that I can only live and speak from what I am. And what I am now is a man who knows that Jan is worth the wait.

FC