My 500 miles

If you didn’t know, you’d think I was a pretty lazy person – always parking as close as possible to my destination, sitting on whatever bench is available, griping about the long standing wait at the end of school.  It does look bad, I know that painfully well.

You have no idea how much I wish things weren’t like that for me.  I wish I could stand for the whole time at my kids’ sports’ days, maybe even jump up and down when they’re on.  I wish I could hold my wee girl’s hand and finish her sponsored walk, instead of being halted by my weak legs.  I wish I could smile and say ‘we’re walking home today’, and hear my son cheering.  I wish I could just wander about the shops, browsing, picking things up and thinking I’ll maybe go back to them later.  I wish I could be active with my children, and take them to parks in the afternoon like I used to.  I wish when my husband wants to wander around a city, I could say yes.  I wish I could scramble down the sand dunes to my favourite beach, and know that I’ll be able to climb back up.  Climbing a mountain or even a hill is a distant memory now, possibly never to be re-lived.

Right now, getting up the stairs is my mountain, and walking across the playground my marathon.  I hope with all my heart that my children will understand all this one day.  I am doing all I can, I am trying to be all I should be.

If, at first glance, you think I am achieving nothing, consider my hidden story, and realise that all this is my 500 miles.  Struggled through because I want to show my people I’m there for them, and I love them.  Nothing can ever rival that.

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