Why My Husband Stayed

With Father's Day yesterday, I was brought to contemplate the journey that Isaac and I have been blessed to embark on as couple. I was filled with gratitude for the past, hope for the future, and most importantly, a keen sense of the absolute miracle that we are still together today.

Yes, miracle.

You see, it wasn't too long ago that we were approached by someone we had barely met who asked questions about my Cataplexy (Greek for suddenly struck down) and Narcolepsy. After listening for a moment, he asked a profound question that still echoes in my mind.

"Why did you stay with her?"

My husband's answer was polite. Ironically, we were not offended. We thought about this long after he left. We were moved by his total lack of understanding. And together, in private, we answered the question.

He stayed, or as we like to phrase it, WE stayed because we weren't afraid of this disease. WE stayed because we had already gone through so much before Cataplexy ever hit our lives. We stayed because we had practiced for many years prior the art of showing up each day.

You see, Isaac was 21 and I was 19 when we decided that were ready to commit to marriage. We were immature, short sited, self centered, co dependent, and extremely stubborn kids who decided that as freshman in college, we knew what we wanted in an eternal companion (we are married for eternity in our religion, so... yeah its a pretty intense decision) and we weren't open to any advice unless of course, it supported what we wanted to hear. 

He was from the country,

I was from the city.

I am an extrovert. 

He is happiest on a river, alone, with fish that he never eats. 

I am happiest at taco bell with a crowd of friends who also love taco bell.  

He loves sports. 

I love to decorate. 

He loves nature. 

I love it too, as long as a Walmart is within 15 minutes. 

I love to dance. 

He loves to not dance. 

He is patient.

I am quick to make decisions. 

He believes in slow and steady.

I believe in fast and then faster. 

But we were in love. He was calm, and I was a hyper active outgoing person who didn't have to entertain him. He thought my endless babble was interesting, and I thought his cool and laid back attitude was admirable. He was the most respectful man I had ever met. He was the kindest man I had ever met. He was perfect for me. 

Seriously, we were so in love... and really dumb.

And so we were married. Our happily ever after was about to begin. Time to rest from our worries, and ride into the sunset with our soul-mate. 

And then it hit. The clear and blatant reality that we were completely different. 

In fact, it kills me to write this, but 3 years into our marriage, and 2 kids later, we sat in our counselor's office as he bluntly delivered the news. "You have a 95% chance of getting a divorce in 5 years unless you dramatically change the way your communicate with each other."

Huh? 

I was dumbfounded, sad, humbled beyond belief, and feeling completely helpless. We had been in counseling for nearly 18 months. I felt like we had given it all we had. We had never worked so hard, and we had never been so miserable. 

It felt unfair. 

It felt like his fault. 

It felt like my fault. 

It felt like a dream. A really crappy dream. 

And so we left. And we continued to struggle for a couple more years. Yes, years. Yes, we are slow learners. Remember, we were dumb when we started.... soooo don't judge. 

But the one thing we both had in common was stubbornness. Over time, and a lot of counseling, the stubbornness turned into determination, and then into humility, and then commitment, and lastly into joy. 

After six years of marriage, and three kids, we figured out how to be happy. Genuinely, joyfully happy. And something else blossomed in those 6 years of intense struggle..... gratitude. A real sense that neither one of us had to be there. That we were reliant and completely dependent on the each other to show up each day. Some days: 

We showed up half way. 

We showed up physically as in "Hi I'm here. Yes I'll change a diaper, but don't talk to me" 

We showed up emotionally and had great conversations.

We showed up crying. 

We showed up angry. 

We showed up happy and then irritated because the other person showed up grumpy. 

We showed up happy even when the other person was grumpy (that was a game changer). 

We showed up hurt. 

We showed up excited about life. 

We showed up ready to listen. 

And we kept showing up. Ugly, pretty, nice, mean, weird, off, unsure, scared, excited, and all. There was something magical about showing up each day. There was something totally imperfect about it all. We stopped chasing the "perfect days" and started appreciating each day. 

And the best part about showing up is, you get to try again tomorrow, even when you reallllly screwed up today. Even when you said something so stupid, hurtful, rude, awkward and unforgivable that day, we both knew that we were going to be there tomorrow. 

Fast forward 5 year later and 11 years of  marriage under our belts, and we were sitting around talking about how grateful we were for those short 5 years of counseling we had. We loved each other, and we tried to avoid being dumb the best we could. 

And then "It" happened. I had Narcolepsy with Cataplexy.  We were so busy showing up, that we didn't see it coming. And then, one day: 

I showed up paralyzed. 

I showed up broken. 

I showed up with really messy hair. 

I showed up sad. 

I showed up helpless. 

I showed up unclear of the path ahead. 

I showed up as a house decoration that talks. 

I showed up in walker wheelchair. 

I showed up and fell asleep walking to the front door. 

I showed up unable to carry my part. 

And then by the grace of God, the help of angels around us in the form of friends, neighbors, and strangers, and the tools we learned in counseling, Isaac was empowered. 

He showed up strong 

He showed up and helped me do my hair.

He showed up really sad too (and that helped us heal). 

He showed up with hope. 

He showed up with faith that God would provide a path.

He showed up and listened. 

He showed up and pushed me in the wheelchair.

He showed up and carried me into the house. 

He showed up and carried my part. 

And eventually, just as before, when we both showed up each day,the days turned into years, and we healed. And now as we look forward, we hope and pray that we are privileged to have those years turn into eternity.

So now when people ask us how we did it, how He did it, we simply smile and think:

Show up.
Practice, practice, practice, practice
Show up. 

I hope that if your took time to read this blog, that you understand and that you have the courage to show up too. 

Happy Fathers Day to all the Dads who show up everyday. 

Sometimes Faith Is:

I have always considered myself to be an optimistic person. Someone who has faith and hope in life. However, Cataplexy brought me to my knees as my life was reduced to laying to bed, paralyzed, able to hear but not to act. Being reduced to a bed ridden, silent state ( those who know me, know I love to talk), my faith was tested. My optimism completely ran out. I wondered if I really had faith. I learned that depending on the day, and the circumstances, faith can be grandiose and amazing, or simple, and even insignificant to others.

So today, I thought I would write what I have learned about faith.

Sometimes, faith is:

* Loosing everything
* Moving away
* Accepting that you are enough
* Letting God speak to your heart
* Listening
* Waking up
* Showering even when you know you're going back into bed.
* Going out in public
* Falling down in front of people you respect
* Praying
* Trying something even when you know you've failed before
* Trying something new
* Accepting Gods will for that day
* Believing God can make something out of you
* Seeing your children grieve, and trusting God sees it too.
* Letting your husband carry you
* Letting your neighbor bring you a meal
* Feeling gratitude for the love of others
* Acknowledging the angels that are surrounding you
* Acknowledging the good in the mist of a hellish experience
* Believing you are more than your body
* Believing you are more than your mind
* Eating
* Thriving
* Giving
* Accepting
* Respecting Gods miracles and truly seeing them
* Hugging the ones you love even when it hurts.


When you are curled up in your closet at night, wondering how you can continue to move forward in your life, on those days, faith is:

* Allowing yourself to fall asleep
* Not going for the bottle, the pills, the computer, the food and just being in the uncomfortable, heart wrenching feelings
* Not taking your life
* Choosing to not get in your car and leave it all

On the mornings when you feel like you can barely move,  barley manage your own emotions, and you can hear your children talking, fighting, and laughing in the other room and you know its only minutes before they are coming in to get you. On those days, faith is:

* Removing your warm covers
* Putting  a bra on under your pajamas.
* Putting down your phone
* Addressing your dread
* Digging deep with courage to face the day
* Putting your own desires behind.
* Brushing their hair
* Pouring cold cereal and still feeling good about your ability to parent

When you are driving home from a long day at work, and your tired to the bone, On those days, faith is:
* Walking through the front door
* Embracing your children
* Listening to them
* Preparing a dinner out of your freezer but feeling like you worked hard to make it.
* Turning off your mind about the urgency of work
* Replacing your passion for your job with your passion to be a mother

When I looked out the window, and  watched my children enjoy the home we worked to build, and we were loosing because of my disease, on those days, faith was:
* Feeling gratitude
* Focusing on my children instead of my losses
* Believing that God can give and take away
* All things will be restored
* Acknowledging that I still had the only thing that truly mattered, my family.


When you are sitting in church, next to your husband and you look at all your children sitting, singing, nudging each other and acting angelic and imperfect at the same time, on those days faith is:
* Taking the sacrament
* Believing in a Savior
* Believing you can be forgiven
* Believing that life is meant to have joy
* Allowing the bread and water to work in you.
*Allowing the Lord to work through you.

And ultimately, faith is believing that, by the grace of God,  you can do it all again tomorrow.