A Clean Sink
I’d lost all control of my life. The one I had been living four months earlier was a distant memory and I no longer knew who I was. The first three weeks after David’s car accident I was 90 miles from home, living with friends who transported me to the hospital every morning and back to their home at night. I spent hours each day at David’s bedside, praying, singing, and talking to my unresponsive husband.
When David was released from the ICU and admitted to a nearby rehabilitation hospital, he was minimally conscious, unable to advocate for himself. I felt a magnetic pull to be there with him as much as possible. My mom, bless her heart, put her life on hold and came to live with us, caring for my two children so that I could devote all of my attention to David. My former identity slipped away with each passing day. I was becoming the new me…a TBI spouse.
After four months, my mom needed to return to Florida and my dad. I was so grateful for the time we had her with us and steeled myself for the days ahead. Alone now, I was juggling homeschooling my 10 and 13-year-old daughter and son, taking care of my significantly disabled husband, cooking, cleaning, vet and doctor appointments, and a revolving door of in-home therapists. And through it all I was grieving. That was one ball that never seemed to get thrown in the air…it was my constant.
How would I get through this? What could I do to regain control in a spiraling universe? My counselor suggested that I pick one thing I could control and then do that one thing every day.
“My counselor suggested that I pick one thing I could control...I chose going to bed with a clean sink.”
I chose going to bed with a clean sink. As I loaded dishes into the dishwasher and wiped grime from pots and pans, I envisioned myself scrubbing away the worries of the day and giving myself a clean slate for tomorrow. Waking to a sink full of dirty dishes only reminds me of yesterday’s woes. Finding it clean is a visual promise that each day is a new day and can be faced without the weight of the past. I know the sink will fill with new crud, and that some of it will require extra elbow grease. I know it will be messy, and I’ve come to know that I can handle it, one day at a time.
You can too. Look around and select that one thing that will allow you to feel a sense of accomplishment. And then commit to doing that one thing. If you do, you will be on your way to regaining some semblance of control over the days ahead.
You’ve got this!
Melanie