My Good, My Bad …


I’m awake, I’m alive, and this morning, I’m celebrating another great day.

And some wonder about that, they question how a simple morning can be so special to me. To them I say, “You don’t understand because you haven’t seen my bad”.

My bad was waking to my Mom screaming because she couldn’t wake my Dad. I was 17.

My bad was screaming because my infant daughter was gone. I was 20.

My bad was holding mom’s hand and giving the order to shut off the machines.

My bad is when my permanent neck injury reduces me to tears; when I have been stressed or tense and as a result, I can’t take the weight of my own head; when my usual 2-3 pain level goes to a FULL-ON 10; the nights when pain medications don’t work and you just pray for it to stop.

Last night was a real bad night so this morning, I am celebrating – celebrating relief from the pain, celebrating this reprieve, thankful that I can again hold my head high.

I won’t push it. No lifting for me. No stressful thoughts or actions. I know my limits. But I have also come to know that there is a whole lot worse than a cold winter morning.

So this is me, counting the great days, because they are what pulls me through the bad ones.

This is me, praying you are having a great one too.


I love you.



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