The Day My Life Imploded
I didn't see any of it coming.
Sometimes you're flush and sometimes you're bust, and when you're up, it's never as good as it seems, and when you're down, you never think you'll be up again, but life goes on. [George Jung]
Over the last year, my world has been completely upended. I have sobbed harder and screamed louder than I can ever remember doing. I have laid face down on the ground and prayed. I have looked up to the sky, clasped my hands tightly, and simultaneously thanked G-d for small victories and silver linings while begging him - and any stars and angels I may have up there - to spare us any more heartache.
In mere months, my family was dealt blow after blow: the deaths of two family members on the same day, one parent falling severely ill, another parent receiving a life-threatening medical diagnosis, both family members enduring ER-MICU stays the same weekend, a work nightmare, a flood that drove us from home to hotel for three days, collapsing pool stairs, and the compounding expenses of repairing these things. Not to mention the mental and emotional toll this has all taken on the rest of our family.
In the beginning, I was angry. I wanted someone or something to blame for these horrible events, even though I knew there was nothing and no one. It was infuriating. I couldn’t think rationally and kept asking answerless questions. Nothing made sense. Nothing was fair. And nothing made any of it better.
How could this happen to me?
How could this happen to my family?
Why is this happening?
What have I done to deserve this?
I know these are normal-irrational questions. I know it's pointless to ask yet I am completely powerless to stop myself. I know there aren't any answers.
If I’ve learned one thing in the last year, it’s that life truly is so short… and so unpredictable. Call it cliché, but for us, everything changed with two phone calls one Saturday afternoon. In an instant, we became the people we always felt sorry for. It’s somewhat of an indescribable feeling; personally, I still feel a lot of disbelief.
I feel as though I’ve been forced to grow up very quickly this past year. I’m facing challenges I never, ever dreamt I would. No matter how much I do or how hard I try, I always feel like I should be doing more and trying harder. While I’m grateful to be able to provide help and contribute to solutions, I hate it. All of it.
Before last summer - April 30, 2022 to be exact - we were flush. For the most part, things were great and we were happy. But on April 30, we received those two calls that changed everything and we waved our lives as we knew them goodbye forever. Suddenly, we were bust and questioned if we'd ever be up again.
But life does indeed go on, and we only get one. The small victories seem a little bit bigger. We try to appreciate the silver linings, in our case, resources. Working in healthcare, I have access to physicians who can help our parents. I have a trusted team of experts and friends whose advice I value. I know what questions to ask. I know what to look for in facilities. These things are priceless - it is not lost on us how very fortunate we are that I just happened to spend the last decade of my career at NPOs and health systems. But at the end of the day, none of it is an actual cure. There is no cure for the pain that comes with acknowledging the fact that two people we love - my mother and father-in-law - are now completely different versions of themselves. I call them Mom 2.0 and Dad 2.0. And there are no cures for what they each have. That fact has carved out a home in my brain and comes knocking every single day.