...: I walk not this road alone

from the Dedee Diaries

© 2010. Erin Adams-Phillips. All rights reserved.

November 23, 2010…I am blessed

I am weak. I am weaker than my strength would like to believe and stronger than weakness ever imagined. This will NOT be an easy feat. With every pain, I get a chill. They come harder. More intense. My body is confused because though I cry with every other pain, I smile. It’s reminding me of the times I assisted God in the miracle of birth. At the end of the pain, came something wonderful…unique…something I treasure and love unconditionally.

Soon after, the pains stop….temporarily. I complain not…rather I enjoy that pain-free moment. I reflect on life…past, but mostly present and I remember I am blessed! I know family, friends, and frenemies who are not as fortunate as I. Some have lost limbs…some have lost life. Some have lost the love of their lives and some have never loved nor been loved...they have no support system at all. Their pains are ten times more crucial than my own. A pain-free moment for them is merely a thought. Yet, they keep on and they smile. They support others and try to find a glimpse of “just because” in their life. They are young and considered crippled…yet, they have heart. Everyone knows that heart is the pathway to survival!

I am blessed!! I have my husband, my children, my parents...a loving, devoted mother, my siblings, great friends, family and even my foes are rooting for me to heal ~I mean really, it’s hard to dislike the dead~.  I have my sanity ~okay, that can be challenged~.  Still, I am blessed because I know God.

My husband lost his mother in 1991. Before her death, she had buried her parents, siblings, aunts, uncles, and yes, even a child. She raised her siblings. When he talks about his mother, a calm overtakes his face and he glows. His eyes glisten. His voice goes deep & low. He tells of how she was the family glue. A loving mother, sister, aunt, grandmother, cousin, friend, and neighbor. She was an advocate for equality and fairness. She would preach to no end, family or stranger, to anyone who mistreated a child/person. He speaks of how exotic she was in her style. Her flare for jewelry and sparkling clothes to match her personality and contagious smile. Most of all, she was godly. She attended her hometown church in a little town called Addyston, Ohio.

Ada Mary Smith Sept 10, 1939 - June 16, 1991

I tell him, his mother was not made of the stuff we are made of! I mean, really…that’s much to endure at such a young age. When I look at her life, I think of how fortunate those are who had the pleasure of meeting her and loving her...someone so heroic. Someone like me, having to endure those hardships, would be in a drug-induced coma to keep the little sanity I would have left. But instead of letting her life drive her, she drove her life…she is a testimony…her name is Ada Mary Smith…a HEROINE.

So when I feel like I cannot take anymore, I look at my husband, whom I call Phil...I look at our daughters...our son...I think of his mother. I think of my ailing friends and instead of asking for relief and healing for myself, I humble myself before God and ask for healing and comfort  for those I know and those I don't know for I am over-positive that I will be okay. After all, my pain ain’t all that bad (compared to others I know). I’ve lost a couple of organs and the sense of hearing; however, I still have the sense of touch…I can feel…I empathize with others and those who love them and whom they love. I have the sense of compassion. I know some of the sick would take my pain over their own without a second thought and rejoice in it…and if I could, I would happily give it to them for there is more pain in watching those I love suffer than it is to suffer myself. 

I pray for those who are weaker than I that they gain strength and find healing, mentally if not physically ~the mental battle is far worse for me~.  I pray that we can develop a bond of encouragement and support, because at the end of the rainbow, we will dance. Sometimes, friendship and understanding are the best medicines. So as our bodies and minds are invaded by uninvited guests, I refuse to curse Mother Nature for her cruel acts--it's not her fault at all. I prefer to thank her for allowing it to be me, for I am strong. Regardless of what Old Master Evil throws upon me...I won't let him have others blame God. God is the reason I live...God is the reason I write. God is the reason I endure. God is the reason I know I am stronger than my weakness would like to believe and weaker than strength ever imagined. It’s a balancing act…it’s my blessing...I know, I walk not this road alone!

Phil giving flowers to his first love; his Mom, Ada M. Smith!