When I lived in Israel, after about 5 weeks, the 2000 intifada began. Much changed as chaos ensued throughout the land. We always had to have our bags packed, a charter plane was constantly scheduled and rescheduled, detours and changes in itineraries were followed under the direction of our leaders, President Faust checked on us daily and he allowed us to climb Mt. Siani before we left abruptly from the Holy Land. I was a part of the last of the three shifts as we exited Israel and the tanks were going off so closely that our windows rattled. It was the only day I was scared (despite the turmoil surrounding us for months). I remember one testimony meeting where a local bore her testimony in gratitude that even though her neighbor's home had been 'bombed,' hers was spared. I had never worried about surviving to this extent. We were watched over, protected, and blessed beyond measure.
With my expedition to Africa, most of our luggage was dedicated to the 140 pounds of school and medical supplies we each brought to donate to five orphanages and the slums outside of Nairobi. When I returned to America, I only brought back souvenirs and the clothes I wore on my back. You cannot see that type of poverty and survival without a huge part of your heart being broken open and a little left behind.
As I planned my European adventure for us 4 single gals, I thought about all aspects of an expedition of this magnitude. Castle stays in Ireland with a medieval banquet, country side tours with Bath, Stonehenge, film sites of Harry Potter and Pride and Prejudice in England, underwater tunnel from Great Britain to Paris, the Eiffel Tower, Louvre and double decker tours, night train through France and Italy, exploration under the Vatican and all over the Colloseum of Italy, sleeping in a monastery, meeting my Greek family, cruising through 5 Greek Isles and Turkey complete with a donkey ride up Santorini and standing in the home of my great grandfather were all on the itinerary. I was always conscious of my budget and keeping it relatively cheap ($4,500) for nearly a month. One way to 'save money' was to ONLY bring a purse and a carry on bag. I thought I'd save money on fees for each flight we took and figured by Italy, I would send home many of my souvenirs to leave space in my luggage. I nearly missed my flight from Italy to Greece because I couldn't ship out my souvenirs in Italy. Many flights I simply wore several outfits simultaneously so as to leave room for my precious finds. My luggage and most of my souvenirs survived the adventure and my experience was something I will treasure for eternity.
All 3 of my travel goals had been met and the next month I met my husband. 6 months later we were sealed in the temple. Since then, I've moved A LOT. My MS got too bad, I needed to stay home with my daughter and my disease, energy and address have changed quite a bit. In 3 1/2 years, I have moved 6 times from all kinds of homes or apartments. Because of my health, it took me a LONG time to unpack each time. Usually with help from others. It seemed like every time we got comfortable and fully unpacked, we had to move again. Some have been great places and experiences and others have been down right miserable. Each move has brought on new or worsening symptoms and some relapses. But I think the worst has been that I've carried around literal and figurative baggage.
At different stages of my life I have simply endured or survived (barely) and other times I've thrived. Looking back I think the times I was just "enduring to the end," I looked around at others and carried too much weight of what I thought I should look like, be able to do, own, and be. I welcomed the darkness as I stumbled, gazed downward and let fear take the wheel. It felt like there was no hope and no light at the end of the tunnel. But, I've been able to shake off the dirt, reach out and find hope and light again.
Fast forward to these past few years and I've been in survival mode again, though. I had no idea how difficult humidity is for a person with MS. I went from going out daily to only being able to go out once a week (and spending most of my time in the car or bathroom). I went from cleaning, cooking, teaching, crafting, photography, exploring, socializing, touching many children's lives, visiting with family frequently, and balancing much to needing help with basic duties. If I cooked one meal, I paid for it for days after. Doing one load of dishes took me at least an hour because of the breaks I had to integrate. My cameras sat on shelves, laundry piled up for my husband, and my screaming baby/toddler couldn't understand why I couldn't lift her when she wanted comfort or she couldn't go outside again. I cannot explain to you the anguish of not being able to pick up my crying daughter, not being able to go outside to feel the sun for even ten minutes more than once a week, or constantly learning what my body could and could NOT do with each new symptom or exacerbation. My idea of what kind of a mom and wife I'd always wanted to be did not jive with my struggling body. I was surviving and BARELY at that.
But, I tried to smile, laugh and brush it off daily. I also rarely unpacked everything because I was always nervous that once I was comfortable that I'd move again or experience some drastic change. I am not saying every day was down right miserable with me lying on the bed day in and day out. Some days, yes, but overall, my little family of three tried to make the best of things. I made sure that my daughter prayed, played, laughed and learned. At a very young age she demonstrated OCD tendencies beyond typical developmental stages, so I've worked with her on things, as has our situation. It's been tough, but we've had much assistance along the way.
I knew with us moving to Idaho for my husband to work with my dad on the temple, that it was temporary. I felt as though it was an opportunity to work on my health. We came at a beautiful time and I was able to go outside 3-4 days a week. Often I couldn't do much, but it was easier on me than Kansas. I had better doctors who listened and made a bit of progress. I tried eating a very strict diet (I'll write more about it later) that was gluten free, dairy free, sugar free and avoided most meats, condiments, and other 'luxuries.' I didn't get better, met with another nutritionist and am hopeful for what lies ahead with a mostly anti-inflammatory diet with roots in GAPS diet to heal my gut. (Along with a MRT/LEAP diet plan).
At one point, I was especially frustrated because I was eating carefully, and increasingly struggling. Numbness and tingling in my extremities was now a daily occurrence without relief. My mom was one of 3 speakers for a RS birthday celebration focusing on, "What I wished I'd known back then [raising kids]." With her, she brought this quote tile I bought her many years back.
"In all of living, have much fun and laughter. Life is to be enjoyed, not just endured." Gordon B. Hinckley
My mom's talk was hilarious, insightful and inspiring. By the end I struggled walking, went to one door and asked a lady to hold it open since I didn't have strength. Two girls went through the next set before I could reach it and one turned back. She asked if I was okay and I smiled and nonchalantly stated, "Yeah. I just have MS and struggle sometimes." My usual happy shrug was met with questions instead. This girl had told her husband last night that she had reached her breaking point. As she explained her symptoms, I could relate, understand and empathize with her. It is difficult to find a good neurologist and she was nervous to have a spinal tap. This disease can rob you of hope and replace your life with fear. Because it is so different for everyone, unpredictable and debilitating, you never know what to expect. But, there are similarities and I'm learning to open up about it instead of dealing with it alone. It helped renew me by meeting this cute girl and reminded me that we are all in this journey together. It turned out that I was the right person in the right place at the right time to help her.
Shortly thereafter, the board for the railroad was moving quickly. My husband's managers told him it was good that he hadn't been called yet. Many guys took a borrow out and would return. He would probably only get a few weeks of work before being furloughed again. Since he had a great job in Idaho, they hoped he could ride out the wait. The next day he was called back. He had to give his two weeks notice and we were heading back for temporary work (hoping he at least works some instead of giving up this job, not having work there and no unemployment). I struggled because I have enjoyed being able to go outside a few times a week and being near family.
I laughed when I saw one bag in my room that I haven't moved since we arrived. I didn't fully unpack. I started thinking about these past two years, especially. I haven't fully lived. I've enjoyed and laughed through parts of my life, but not all. Sometimes life is simply that way. We have stages in our lives where we are moving, changing, growing, hurting, struggling and surviving. But, if we let it continue in the same manner, we miss out on much joy, fun and laughter.
Anyone who knows me knows I laugh a little too much. But, as my hope has dwindled, my joy has too. Instead of focusing on the fact that I can't clean, cook or pop out baby #10, like I envisioned years ago, I will focus on the joy I have today. I will unpack all my burdens, frustrations, comparisons, expectations, and remembrance of what I USED to be able to do. Instead, I'll unpack, look forward and find joy. I have found much joy in my daughter and my husband. But, over the past few years I have lost joy in myself. I haven't felt joy over my abilities, accomplishments or soul. I have more today than I ever thought I would have years ago. I also have much less than I anticipated as well. Sometimes I have looked around at others and focused too much on the NOT instead of what I have been blessed with. I've decided that I need to put on the blinders like those race horses ("Comparison is the thief of Joy"), set down my roots wherever my family is at the moment, and find joy in ALL parts of my life.
