I wish I could say that I was writing about baking again because everything with Scott’s situation at work was resolved. I wish I could tell you that Phoenix city management listened to the many voices that are supporting us. I wish that all of the people who promised they would be there for Scott and I when they came to the hospital had made good on those promises. I wish I could tell you that everything was going to be ok and that Scott and I could focus on healing. I wish I wasn’t filled with trepidation and uneasiness every day. I can’t tell you any of those things.
I can tell you that I’m determined to try not to lose myself, my marriage and my sanity.
I’ve been horribly sick for weeks and slow to get better. It’s very frustrating to feel like you have to keep fighting and be physically falling apart. If my sister hadn’t made it out here for Thanksgiving I don’t know that I’d be doing this well. It was good to have family here and it gave me something positive to focus on. She also made one of my November recipes on Thanksgiving with Scott that turned out absolutely fabulous although I was too sick to write something coherent.
The holidays have been hard on me this year. They feel empty and hollow, a stark reminder that my life was interrupted and due to powers beyond my control I’m currently on a forced pause. I have this gnawing fear that I will never “feel” a Christmas again, like all the magic is gone. I’m hoping that time will be my ally despite feeling like my foe.
If I had a Christmas wish it would be that Scott would be able to tell his own story. No one tells his story better than him. He deserves the right to tell his own story to the public. I deserve to have my own story.