Spanish showed me my brain still worked. A year before I had the strokes I decided to take my first Spanish class ever to see if I could. After so many years of sickness and fogginess and far too many meds I didn't think I could learn, retain and regurgitate new information. Boy was I wrong! Not only did I devote myself to succeeding by getting up at 7am every Tuesday and Thursday to study, but I actually got an A. It was a phenomenal self-esteem boost and gave me a little proof that I could believe in myself again. By the end of the semester I was well on my way to committing to a masters program in English. Before any of that actually happened, though, I had those two strokes and everything I knew flipped upside down. Don't they say if you want to make God laugh make a plan? Well I had the audacity to try and in true fashion, God giggled.
As I was washing the dishes last night I felt a certainty come over me that I forgot I used to own. In the most blatant term I'll call it faith. A more complicated explanation is the feeling that I endured what I endured in order to become who I am supposed to become. Heavens to Betsy is this the tiny kernel of acceptance starting to blossom inside me? Might I make peace with my tribulations and actually do something useful with the rest of my life? With all my heart and soul I hope so. The best way I know how is to keep challenging myself, continue to declutter my psyche and just keep on believin'.
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