Coming Back Home
Everything comes back in time — often better than you imagined.
Early on, after my diagnosis, I couldn’t ride in the car for very long without getting sick. If I couldn’t handle a car ride, there was no way I could manage a boat ride. And that was our family rhythm at the time — weekends at our beach cabin, three hours away, or visiting grandparents, also three hours away.
That part of our life changed drastically. I’m not even sure the kids understood why we had stopped going to the beach or making trips to see their grandparents. They were at the age where staying home simply meant more time with their friends, so perhaps they didn’t feel the loss the same way I did.
For me, it was heavy. I carried regret. At the time, I believed that part of my life was gone forever. Depression was real, and in the middle of it I made the decision to sell our family beach house. My husband never left my side — if I couldn’t make the drive, he certainly wasn’t going without me. And so we sold.
Looking back, I wish I had given it more time. But the truth is, I was exhausted. I was depressed. Every day I was pouring energy into exercising my mind, moving my body, and trying to maintain a happy front for my family. The last thing I had capacity for was managing a second home or traveling anywhere.
What I’ve learned since then is this: don’t count anything out. Healing is slow, but it happens. My normal did come back — not a “new normal,” but my old normal, returned in a way that was even better. Richer. Full of joy. And deeply, deeply grateful.
Healing didn’t give me a new life, it gave me my life back — only richer.
Share the Light.
Christi
Wow my friend! The years that we shared having vacation cabins on the same street brought such joy and great times with our kids and families. You were then, and will continue to be the strength and inspiration for so many of us!