I felt another wave of relief. Things are still hard, but they seem to be getting easier. I acknowledge that after all the trauma we've experienced together it will never happen quick enough. I can acknowledge that there are also things we can do to project more confidence and pick up the pace.
Healing is a process and not an event. It's a painful process. I broke my leg a few years back, and I remember trying to move my foot to double check what happened. I had just broken my leg, I felt some pain, but it wasn't until I tried to move it did I feel a crashing wave over my body and scream out for help. Help did come. I was able to get my leg in a cast, and eventually surgery. And it was the recovery that was painful. The day I broke my leg, my body responded to dull the pain, but after that automatic response dulled through out my recovery. I was prescribed pills to help me through the pain. It never seemed enough. It was a tricky balance to decide how much pain you yourself can tolerate each day. I couldn't imagine making that decision for someone else.
Eventually, after pushing myself through the pain, through the physical therapy, readjusting to the lack of pain pills, I made it through. In no small part thanks to my doctors, and family, and friends who helped me through it. Who checked in on us. Who made us meals. Who made the pain a little more tolerable and reminded me of the progress I was making.
My leg will never be the same. I joke the metal in it makes me part machine.
And now I can tell when a good storm is coming.