in sickness and in health~

Ekaterina Koroleva

i felt sickness coming on. the inside of my belly was cold. my nostrils felt icy air coming in, hot germs going out. couldn't get the germs out fast enough. i lay in bed thinking. 

thinking:

i'm an adult. 

i'm more than just a body. 

i can breathe this away and out of me. 

just don't don't don't move. 

chills came to shiver me. 

the sickness was so strong. stronger than even my will. 

which, believe me, is strong. 



and then, tears. as i couldn't hold it in any longer. i had this image from the novel extremely loud and incredibly close of the sign language made up between two without words: 

mollyruns.tumblr.com

"Don't cry," I told her, by putting her fingers on my face and pushing imaginary tears up my cheeks and back into my eyes."

and i couldn't hold it in any longer. tears.

and he was beside me. he wasn't telling me, "don't cry". just there, with a hand on my back. jumping out of bed as fast i've ever seen. just there.

with me.  

By jamie heiden

but sickness. i feel alone in sickness. it's not my way of being. it's not flying and soaring and light. 
not graceful. 
it's brittle and harsh and sweaty and 


sick. 


alone in a field of images swirling behind my eyes:
a rock being hefted across a busy street. the rock being the back of the soul. my soul. turning the rock in my hands, my gnarled old woman hands, like turning the underside of my soul up to the sun to be shown to all. not really wanting to show it, at first, but then feeling the relief of warmth on that dark protected place... 

Lucio López Cansuet

like a hot shower. the shower eroding off the sickness. holding it off for the time being. so many showers~ hot hot water pelting my back, strength in my weakness. feeling my joints loosen, but bracing for goosebumps. knowing they're waiting for me on the other side of this warmth. but he's there too, after goosebumps. waiting. watching. there. 

Kathy Hare

and the kids. the kids swooping and sailing around me. the way i ought to be, i think. but you know... 
my wings are still there. firmly fastened to my back. and i can do it. even if "doing it" means 
being sick and needy. 
means being sweaty and weak.
means being less than i think i am. 
because of course, it's all a part of who i am.  

by Yoskay Yamamoto

i'm a mother who has children who teach me because although right now i might have more knowledge, they'll always be smarter. i'm a wife who has a husband to stand beside me, with his hand on my back, reminding me he's there, always.  i'm a woman who has this underside of a soul that needs to rest as much as it needs to soar. in sickness and in health are gifts to be given, and to be received. 
gratitude for them all.