“Happiness is a simple game of lost and found. Lose the things you take for granted and you will feel great happiness once they are found.” – Richelle E. Goodrich

It’s easy to focus on all that Mike has lost as a result of the stroke. I’ve witnessed firsthand what it has taken away from him… and from me.

I try not to minimize my own losses though they seem quite insignificant compared to Mike’s. But I miss the carefree day to day I used to enjoy. I miss spending time at my house. I miss running in the early morning hours before work and before the heat hits. I miss working out in my gym. I miss hiking and rock climbing. I miss just waking up on a Saturday and saying, “What should we do today?” I miss only having myself to worry about packing for or getting ready in the morning. I miss not having to drive everywhere when Mike and I go places. I miss how he always made me breakfast, and even made my coffee. I miss how he made plans for us. I miss our cabin weekends.

I guess those are things I’ve taken for granted, not because I didn’t appreciate them but because I’ve just gotten used to them.

And who doesn’t take for granted the ability to walk and use both arms when that’s all you’ve ever known?

But sometimes in losing something of such magnitude, we end up finding strengths we never would have discovered otherwise.

***

Last weekend, Mike and I got away to the Finger Lakes. It was a much needed vacation. We went to CMAC, a concert venue in Canandaigua, to see The Killers. We had planned this weekend prior to the stroke with our friends, John and Diana. Just by sheer luck, Diana chose the VIP package which we ended up needing for Mike so we had access to a separate area to sit and have food and drink before heading to our lawn seats.

Although CMAC boasted handicapped-accessible grounds, the ramp to the lawn was located right above the stairs where people are coming into the venue. To get to this ramp, we had to go all the way around that entrance just to come back the opposite way towards the hoards of people coming up the stairs.

Getting through the crowds was frustrating. People were jumping in front of the wheelchair to get ahead of us. Our friend, John, took charge yelling “Excuse us” and got Mike through. Very few people made way for us. I don’t know if I could have done it alone.

After a difficult time getting to the lawn and then realizing Mike needed the restroom so we had to go back through the hellish crowds, I decided that we would stay down on the side of the stage where the VIP area was and where, although we couldn’t see the stage, we could still hear everything. Mike was disappointed and I felt a bit annoyed by that. I wasn’t trying to punish him but I was exhausted and just couldn’t deal with getting back on the lawn even though John was more than willing to help.

Mike eventually acknowledged it was a better idea because he’d most likely need the bathroom a couple more times. We ended up finding a handicapped-accessible port-a-potty that was unusually clean and had no line, which was amazing. There was no light inside so I used my phone while we were in there but it was still hard to see. Unfortunately, I lost my expensive prescription sunglasses throughout this whole ordeal which was very upsetting.

By the end of the night, I had lost energy, patience and my usual bright side. I was gentle and honest with Mike and told him I just can’t do this type of thing again. It’s too stressful, exhausting and just not enjoyable. He kept thanking me for everything I did and for taking him on the trip, which made me feel bad. I know he’s grateful and I want to do these things with him, but this is hard. Really hard.

***

Mike had a great week with Jaycee. She worked with him 90 minutes each day and had him working out in his gym and walking up and down the driveway. Each day, after she leaves, Mike texts me what they did and there’s always lots of happy faces and exclamation points. Big things are happening!

He’s feeling good and looking good.

He’s finding his confidence and strength again.

He’s finding his way back to him.

***

The day after the concert, we went to Three Brothers Winery & Brewery in Geneva. It had breathtaking views, two wineries, a brewery and a cafe with coffee and great food. We stayed the whole day. They were VERY handicapped-accessible so Mike could relax and enjoy himself and, therefore, so could I.

It re-energized me.

And I realized… I can do this as long as I need to.

Mike and I talked on the drive home from the Finger Lakes about the weekend. Although this is challenging for both of us in different ways, we don’t want to stop trying to enjoy life. This does not define him and it will not be his reality forever. He is strong and will get out of that chair.

We held hands the whole drive home and allowed ourselves to get lost in our love and thoughts of future plans.

We stopped off in Little Falls for him to see Beardslee Castle where we will have our reception. (He loves it!)

Through all of this, we count our blessings and focus not on our losses but on all that we have. I have found that I am stronger emotionally and physically than I ever realized. I am a patient and loving caregiver and will keep doing whatever I need to for Mike and with Mike.

We have found a deeper bond and a love for each other than either of us has ever known.

We have found an indescribable respect for the disabled community.

Mike has found a yearning to be closer to God. He describes feeling an inner joy with going to church and he looks forward to seeing friends there and going to functions in the future.

And although my expensive prescription sunglasses are still lost, I discovered I had purchased coverage to replace them.

I found my bright side 🙂