The phrase, “it’s not the destination, but the journey” has been around for a long time, often stated in articles in motorcycle-related media and elsewhere.
While I always believe in having an end-goal (i.e., “the destination”), how we get there can be — and should be — a fun adventure.
Lately, my life journey has certainly been an adventure, with many twists and turns, peaks and valleys, and challenges. And I cannot say that the last 10 days have been any fun at all.
So what’s my outlook on how the journey has been twisted?
…I have two perspectives.
1. Short-term: whilst in the midst of the “adventure” — in my case, an injury producing pain that could not be controlled and that caused subsequent life-threatening conditions — my perspective was more of bewilderment and surprise than anything else. Changes almost hour-to-hour with physical reactions and varying information caused a rather frequent change in my perspective. I can’t say that all of my perspective at any given time was positive.
2. Long-term: I kept my end-goal in sight — that is, having a loving, stable home life with my spouse. Overall, with all the things that I do and enjoy in my life (motorcycling, caring for sr. pals, loving my family, contributing to my community through service, building things, etc.), the very most important thing as my end-goal is to always have my spouse and OUR life as we’ve built it as our goal (i.e., “the destination.”)
The journey toward this goal (or in maintaining the goal) has had rough patches, detours, and significant challenges. With obstacles of health issues (more for my spouse than for me, but lately, I’m the lucky loser in that regard), the journey has been difficult.
However, throughout this process and during the darkest times, I held the hand of the man I love, screamed sometimes, and knew that he was always there, loved me, and just his very presence gave me strength.
I guess how much I demonstrate how much I lean on my spouse was evident throughout my recent hospitalization when several nurses and two doctors made remarks about how well we communicate and how much he helped me throughout the ordeal. Everything from letting me yell and squeeze his hand with a death-grip while being poked with a needle (I am such a needlephobic wuss) to how I asked him questions when I got news or test results. Naturally, I turned to him first before asking a doctor — and they all noticed that.
One doc told me that very few of his patients ask their spouse what the spouse thinks before blindly accepting what a doctor says. The doc said that he respected that and valued how closely we support each other.
Well… thankfully, the worst of it is behind me. I still have recovery to do. The journey will have some more twists and turns. But I am truly grateful and most sincere when I say that my spouse demonstrates what I have said often:
Life is short: show those you love how you love them, each and every moment of every day.
And I pick now to visit the community where I volunteered last year. That location has no internet and I was out of reach. I feel badly that I couldn’t be there for you, but am heartened to know that your loving husband was there for you (not that I had any doubt) as well as our brothers and sisters.
Man, bro, how do these things happen to you? Heavens to mergatroid!
I will call you later. Love you. Ore e sempre.