I am sure you have heard the saying; What doesn’t kill you will make you stronger. Perhaps your skin crawls like mine when you hear that or maybe it has encouraged you in a difficult time. This morning I decided that I was too weak to accomplish anything so I took a walk. I sat on a bench over looking a beautiful scene. The waves gently crashed and the sun glittered on the smoother part of the water. There was a gentle breeze that carried the fresh salty air. As I sat I ran different scenarios in my head. I wondered if this latest bought of challenges would be Claire’s last. I felt the grief of remembering her sitting next to me smiling on what was a good day. I wondered if that would ever happen again. Much like she lost her hand function, I often worry that when something else disappears if it will ever came back. I sat in the sun and cried my eyes out. I actually fogged up my sunglasses. I eventually regained my composure and was carried off by the rhythm of the waves crashing. I know I say it a lot but I am thankful for the reminders that come to me through the waves. As I sat, captivated by the cycle of the water going in and out it occurred to me that I will survive this. I was reminded of how big God is and how I am never alone. If for somehow Claire’s time with me ends soon, I will not be alone even if it feels like I am. If Claire progresses and gets worse and I get more tired, still I will not be alone. It was the aha that I desperately needed. Really, both scenarios sort of suck, it is fairly reasonable to think that there are more hard things in my immediate future. But after the good cry and the reminder that I am not alone I am alright with it. I wouldn’t choose it or wish it on anyone else. It is fair to say that at the very least I am a hella lot stronger than I was when we got the diagnosis 5 years ago.