A Little Bit of Everything Has Changed

On signs of recovery.

Signs of a recovery are always a good thing, my neighbor reminded me. How is it so that a little bit of everything has changed? A little bit of everything, I love that.

“Sometimes it’s lost on me, but most of the time it’s not” rings in my head.

It’s not lost on me that I can go for daily walks again.

It’s not lost on me that I am getting better. Finally.

It’s not lost on me that the Pacific Northwest dream I had years ago came to be. And it happened in the most beautiful, unexpected way.

It’s not lost on me that the treatment I so badly needed, that I worked so hard for, and that I knew would get me better, is working.

It’s not lost on me that the type of people I wanted to be around, are around.

Signs of recovery are always a good thing.

When I entered the cabin last spring, I felt happy to be there. Happy because I wasn’t around people my age who wouldn’t understand what I was going through. Happy I didn’t have to say no to more plans that I just couldn’t do. Happy that I was in my favorite place, even if it meant sleeping in a tent. Happy to be there, even just for a couple of weeks. It’ll just be easier, I remember thinking.

I was reminded recently that the cabin worked its magic. Yes, it got me better. It worked its magic in that way. Of course, it did.

But, it also brought me neighbors who care for Blakely and me like family. Who always ask how I am doing and remind me that, they too, always acknowledge seeing signs of recovery. Neighbors who were confused by my treatment and chose their words carefully who now come over and make jokes in the most loving, sweet way. It brought me slow mornings and slow evenings, and, oh, the sigh of relief and the deep breath of fresh air that I needed. It brought me long walks on the beach, sunny days and cozy gray ones, freedom and adventure. It brought me a comfortable couch to rest my head on and good books to escape in. The cabin turned some of my most hopeless, “how am I going to keep doing this” days into ones that slowly, day by day, became optimistic. It brought me clarity on what I wanted and space to make that happen. It brought me joy that was lacking, support that was missing, and peace that was needed. It brought me my first walks, my first stings, my first healing milestones, my first signs of recovery. It brought me enlivening experiences, older kinship, and the most beautiful sense of home I could dream of.

And I think that’s as close to magic as you can get.

And so, I realize that a little bit of everything has changed. That friends, and neighbors, and home, and health have all changed. A little bit of everything.

The cabin is not going anywhere, but today, I remember that it worked its magic—that signs of recovery are always a good thing.