It has been forever since I posted to my blog. I got a little lost and couldn't find my way. Actually, I meant to get back on here and start blogging more but never sat down to do it. I am doing really well on my new drug, Aubagio. I was on Copaxone before and that made me pass out one night so they took that one away quickly.
My father passed away on April 8th and I am still coming to grips with this huge loss in my life. My father and I had gotten very much closer over the last few years and not hearing his voice or knowing I won't see his face when I go back home to Poquoson is something that is very hard for me to face. But, you go on despite that.
One day you realize, you are never going to see them again and the loss of both of my parents is so fresh and new to me. My mother has been gone for over 7 years and I still feel it like it was yesterday. She talks to me in my dreams. It seems we are connected in that way. I visited a psychic in February. She told me my mother worried about my father. She said my father was not afraid to die and wanted me to know that he was not afraid. She also said your mother talks to you and I didn't say a thing, she then said she talks to you in your dreams. I nodded. She said  you both are very spiritually connected. I said yes, we have been since I was a child. I understood my mother when no one else did. I was her rock when she needed me to be even at a very young age, I knew I was her rock when she was sick.
I guess one day I should write all this down in a book but I am afraid it wouldn't sell. I mean really who wants to read about a woman who knew as a child how her life would turn out or knew that she was maybe born for a reason even if she didn't know what it was.
I think one day I need to put it to paper so to speak. I have always thought of writing my mother's story but then it came to me that writing my mother's story would have to include my story. I know that doesn't make sense but to me it does perfectly. I always had a sense that I was born to help my mother or born to make a difference somewhere. I am not sure where that is but my life has to mean something to somebody. I hope it meant something to my parents. I am sure it did but you know what I mean.
How do you start to write your own story or your own book? Is it easy or will I not find the words. These are questions, I ask myself everyday and when I can't fall asleep at night, I toss the beginning of my book around in my head.
My life isn't about my MS, it is about one woman who just kept on going. I never really stopped going. I still go on. On the worst possible day, I just roll over and get out of bed. I mean it takes some strength and willpower to do that when most of the time you can't feel your feet and hands and on other days, you wonder where your legs went. You just keep one foot in front of the other.
I guess maybe the story of my 20's and 30's needs to be told maybe my life could help one person. I am not sure. Lately, I have thought about being a motivational speaker...me. I guess I realized the other day that my words that I said to some people did matter and made them feel better. I mean how often do you realize that.
I guess if I do write that book then maybe someone will read it and get something from it.