Thursday, February 16, 2012

Sunrise.....sunset

This morning when I got up I looked out my front window and saw the sun.  It had just risen to a point where it was fully visible above the houses across the street.  I thought of Brian and how much he LOVED watching the sun come up.  Don't get me wrong, he didn't do it on a daily basis, but whenever he went hunting he would always come home and tell me how beautiful the sunrise was.  Every sunrise marks a new day, a new day without my Brian, but a day that I can make mine.  Today was no different, well, it was a little different......no, it was a LOT different.....


Today I met a man at our clinic where we very carefully hoisted Jimmy the bear into his truck.  Jimmy is a nice looking black bear with a white "V" on his chest that has adjourned our clinic since 2006.  That bear hunting trip was the last one Brian took before he was diagnosed, and I am sure that he saw many beautiful fall sunrises during those days in Northern Wisconsin.  Jimmy, and his cohorts, Roscoe the raccoon (no, Brian didn't shoot that one, but it was a funny story!) Berry (named by Abbie) the deer head, and Davenport the pheasant have gone to live at the Aldo Leopold Nature Center in Madison.  Jimmy stood proudly in the back of this mans pickup truck, and he looked as though he was navigating the way.  I would have loved to ride with them into Madison, just to see the people they passed point at the bear in the back of the truck, but I had business to take care of, as today was a day that would again change the rest of my life.....


You see, today I sold our chiropractic clinic.  It is finally a done deal, and while I am glad that it is over I am also immensely sad.  I spent my entire adult life working towards this goal.  I supported Brian throughout his education.  I took jobs at dental offices while he went to school so I could learn how to run a clinic, you'd never know that I have a Masters degree in Home Economics (Apparel Design major).  I worked side by side with him at Cottage Chiropractic for almost 10 years, and when he stopped practicing I did my best (which often did not seem like enough) to keep it going in the hopes that one day he could go back to the profession he so loved.  As of today it is no longer mine.  I feel like I have lost a huge piece of Brian with the sale of the practice, and in many ways it feels like yet another death.  I guess in many ways it is......I am sad to see the sun set on this part of our lives, this part of MY life.

As the sun set today it hit me how very sad I am.  Tonight was one of those complete melt down nights where I was on the floor crying about how I want my life back, with my two little ones on either side of me hugging me and telling me it will be alright.  My kids, they are SO amazing.  I would do anything to have Jimmy back where he belongs in the clinic and to see Brian smile as he takes back his next patient.  Anything.  Of course we all know there is nothing that can be done.  Tomorrow will be another sunrise, another day.  Who knows what it will bring.  Evening will come and the sun will set again.  Sunrise.....sunset.  Each sunrise and sunset bringing me closer to a place of healing and at the same time bringing me one day closer to again being with my Brian.  Sunrise.....sunset.....Sunrise.....sunset...........

2 comments:

  1. Beautifully written! Thanks for sharing. And I didn't even cry reading it until I got to the part about your kids hugging you and and telling you it will be alright.

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  2. Sheryl, as hard as all of this is for you (and I know it is), I can't help but notice the upside, which is that you are truly landing on your feet through very, very difficult times. It took a lot of work, strength and courage for you to sell the practice. And while sad, Brian would be so proud of how strong you are and how you are moving forward.

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