Lucky #7

This time of the year my thoughts always turn inward. I close my eyes and seek the months and perhaps years of memories of my children that are lost in the cavern of my mind. Those lost memories make me the saddest. I wonder what I missed, what I have forgotten and I wonder what I might have been.

Seven years ago I worked up the nerve to drive to the new mall and walk around with our 2 year old and look around. I left the mall on a stretcher in an ambulance with some lingering questions finally answered and the realization that my world had just shifted forever.

Seven years later; what have I learned? Each day gets me a little closer to accepting the changes in my life. When words fail me, or thoughts jumble or I get lost, it’s an opportunity for me to accept that God sifted this through His hand and is still holding me. I have learned that everyone has a story and a battle they have fought or are fighting. I may be the only person that entire week who sincerely looks them in the eyes and greets them and says something kind. I learned to make the time for someone else when my time seems shortest and least convenient.

As I realized that this weekend marks the seventh anniversary of my epilepsy diagnosis, perhaps it is really lucky #7. In less than two months, 7, YES LUCKY #7, of my best friends are going with me to Philadelphia to run the Half Marathon. Except they aren’t just running it, each of them have joined the Epilepsy Therapy Project and raised money alongside me over the last few months. Together we have already raised over $11,000!

When I get frustrated by the what if’s, I need look no further than my front yard to the pick up game of baseball on a weekday afternoon and realize that list of what if’s would look a lot different if I didn’t have epilepsy.

There is so much for which I am thankful and yes, even lucky to have in my life.

Copyright © Gatewood Campbell, September 2012