Unraveling, I look around. The loose threads are at my feet. Everything I imagined, dreamed of, envisioned has come undone. The colors fade, the darkness scary.
That was yesterday, in the past, no longer haunting. The word breast cancer can do that.
Always a planner, a doer, I sat in this puddle looking at the pieces of my life. In time, I had a sense of unabated love that took hold allowing the pieces to be resewn, put back together. I have watched as the colors came back to life, never quite the same.
The somber awareness for me was living day to day, letting the loose threads of yesterday fade away. Tomorrow was just another day. My world was gray, foggy, all due to the treatment but never letting go of this warmth intermingled with hope.
I can honestly see there has been a shift… a shift in the way I see things, a shift in the way I now walk. The loose threads tell the story.
Divine imagination has guided me. A constant internal dialogue filled my day, drawing me close never once wavering. Each stitch lovingly allowed me to mend.
I am no longer afraid of the darkness. The colors are beautiful as I take in all of the amazing blessings, slowing down to look at the intricate pattern as it emerges.
