The Shamrock Shuffle for Shayna is over for the third year. Several times over the weekend, and at the race, people would come up to me and comment on how strong Tywana and I are. People said they could not do what we are doing. “I can’t imagine losing a child.” I’m not sure how to respond to this. I know people mean it as a compliment, but I don’t feel particularly strong. I’m hanging on by a thread. Every day I count as one less day I have to endure. It’s day 999, tomorrow is 1,000 days. It’s torture not knowing how many days there are left. Instead of counting up, I wish I could count down. Running this race is like running a race where the finish line is an unknown distance away. How am I supposed to pace myself when I don’t know if it a 100 meter dash or a marathon?
Last week I heard someone say they lied to their kid because they told them that “If anything ever happens to you, I won’t be able to live.” They felt guilty because they “lied”. Their kid “died” and they’re still here. Nope. You didn’t lie. Many parents feel that way, but you know what? You do live. You don’t really have much choice. Other people are depending on you. You made a commitment. So, you get up, you get dressed, you eat, you bathe, and you do it all again. You even sometimes pretend to be happy and people call you strong.
