Sunday 9 December 2012

The Stories (we don't know)

Have you ever met someone who thinks you must have had an easy life just because you are always joyful and seem somewhat happy-go-lucky or so untroubled? Have you ever met someone who you have just assumed or never considered that they have gone through tough things?
Once someone told me that I had nothing I could say into a matter because I had a perfect life so what would I know. Ok, that wasn't exactly her phrasing but it is the gist of what she said.
Am I a happy, joyful, blessed person? Yes. Do I have a good life? Yes. Have I experienced sorrow? Yes. Have I had a hard life? Well, let's take a look.

I'll start with some blessings. I was born in Canada. I was born to parents who wanted me and loved me. My parents brought me to church, they read to me, they taught me about God's love, they fed me and clothed me. Now, having said that I was fed and clothed, I should mention that for the majority of my childhood (including my teen years) my parents' income was considered below the poverty line. However, that is not my story; maybe I will tell that another day.

Here are some things that some would say are part of a hard life:
I lived in the middle of nowhere without electricity and running hot water.
My honorary grandparents were killed by a train.
When I was 12 my big sister got cancer.
I basically had no mom for a year while she took care of my sister in the hospital.
My first baby was born with gastroschisis.

Now, to me, living in the boonies with only a generator for power and no hot water was a blesssing. I had the best time living there. I'll tell stories of that another time too. So let's move on to my sister. I know that most people know someone who has had cancer. In fact, the year before my sister got leukemia, my little brother's close friend lost his battle with leukemia. They were 7 years old. My sister lived. Does that make it easier? Yes. Does it mean it wasn't a hardship? No.  I'm not telling that story right now either though. Moving on. My husband and I had been married 5 months before our first pregnancy. At my routine, 18 week ultrasound it was discovered that our baby's abdomen hadn't closed and her guts were hanging out. 18 weeks later we moved into a trailer in the parking lot of the hospital. One week later(full term) our baby girl was born. 6 weeks in the NICU. Anyone who has ever had a child in the NICU knows what that is like, whether your baby was/is in NICU for a few days or a couple years. I'll tell that story later too.

So just remember, everyone has a story.


4 comments:

  1. I couldn't agree more! Like you, most of my childhood was at poverty level, and even as I got into adulthood, we never could shake it.

    Everyone has a story, no matter what they look like or how they act. Beautiful post!

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  2. By the way, you have a brand new follower!

    ReplyDelete