You may be wondering what this photo of a very young me has to do with the title of my blog, but read to the end, and you will find out.
I was talking with a fellow church member the other night, and during the course of the conversation, I learned about the many struggles and issues she has had for years because of her health. Diabetes has taken away her ability to drive due to neuropathy in her feet. That condition has caused her to fall, break bones that had permanent consequences, taken away her independence, and made even walking with her walker inside her own home a challenge. Because of the neuropathy in her hands, she has to support her hand holding a fork with the other hand to enable her to eat. Even at that, she drops food and makes a mess. And now the diabetes is attacking her vision. She has to get eye injections, something I know only too well, to keep the atrophy from spreading. So far, the shots are working and she can see well enough to read most things and watch television.
But diabetes didn’t cause the cancer she battled. It didn’t cause her husband’s cancer. Cancer is its own insidious disease. She is through with treatments and only has to go for annual check-ups, but friends and family who have had cancer tell me it’s always in the back of their minds, wondering if it will come back.
She’s just a few years older than I am, and when I did the math on when these problems began, I realized she was much younger than I am now.
So I asked her how she handled everything emotionally. She told me she just took one day at a time. “I never ask ‘why me?’,” she said. “My family won’t let me give myself a pity-party.”
Her attitude was upbeat, and I was impressed by the “one day at a time” philosophy. She was able to say this despite the fact she can’t dress herself very well due to the damage from one of her falls that broke shoulder bones and left her unable to raise her arms. You know what she does? She lays a front zip or front button garment, something we used to call a housecoat, on the bed, lies on it, slips her arms in it, and then fastens the front. If she needs to wear more appropriate clothing for being around others, her husband has to help her dress.
Yet no pity-party. No “why me?”
The truth is, some people have more struggles than others, and it doesn’t seem fair. Why should that cranky old man who growls at people in restaurants and drives his family crazy have such great health while this young mother or young child faces what seems to be insurmountable hurdles?
We all know people who have lived well into their nineties who never knew tragedies we all fear. They never lost a child, they never experiences severe health issues, they even never knew divorce or abuse or broken relationships. Maybe they outlived a spouse and suffered from the loneliness and loss of widowhood, but their losses were the normal ones, the expected ones if we live long enough.
Believe it or not, I’ve never asked “Why me?” with my vision loss. Don’t get me wrong, I hate it. I’ve cried plenty about it, but I’ve come out of the valley. Sure, I’d love to be able to see like most of you see, and there are still triggers that might bring tears to my eyes or cause me frustration.
But I know it could be so much worse. So I’ve learned to count my blessings and really mean it.
If we can find the blessings in our lives, despite the terrible tragedies we experience, we can get through them. If we focus on the simple blessings, we can realize that we can endure.
What does the picture of a very young me have to do with any of this? Well, It’s because that photo is a reminder of the innocence of youth. That little girl had no idea what lay ahead of her in life. I was cared for by her parents, and her biggest concerns were food to eat (well, I was a picky eater and not really into food…), a comfortable bed when tired, and playing with my cat and the few toys I possessed. I was too young to think of the future or worry about anything.
Some of you reading this have experienced more heartaches than I have. It could be your joy will never fully return because of the losses you’ve had or the struggles you continue to face. But maybe, if you’re asking “why me?,” it will help you to know there are others enduring the same or even worse situations.
Life can throw a lot at us. But it never helps us or anyone else to ask “Why me?” That doesn’t mean we can’t be sad or grieve or get frustrated. But accept that this world is full of heartaches and problems. And don’t feel as though you’ve been singled out for punishment.
No one ever said life was fair. But the strong know how to persevere.
I am a praying person and a Christian. My prayer for those of you who might be asking “Why me?” is for you to understand and accept life’s challenges and that you will take your negative and turn it into a positive to help others. Mentor someone going through the same struggles you’ve had. Visit or call the lonely. Participate in organizations who are connected to your cause. Don’t allow yourself to become isolated and bitter.
Sorry for the sermonette. No, I’m really not. I think it needed to be said. You can disagree with me, and that’s fine. But I can’t help but imagine what a wonderful world it would be if people were kinder, more understanding, more helpful, and less focused on self. I’m including myself in that admonition. I need to do more, to think less of me and more of others.
And I don’t ever need to ask “Why me?” There are 8 billion people on this planet. Why not me?
Life As I know it 