The pulse of a crisis has one pitch. Panic. I am not certain it needs to be this way. In fact, I know, after reflecting on this particular time in my life – It shouldn’t be this way. Although it sounds counterintuitive, striving toward balance becomes paramount particularly during a crisis. Because I focused so much on saving my father from dying, I failed to focus on the living parts of my life. In the end, when tending to my father in hospice, I had very little reserve left. Those final weeks I became daughter, nurse, estate planner, caretaker and maid. In my father’s most vulnerable state, I battled grief with resentment and exhaustion.
To read the rest of this piece, please visit The First Day.
Image: “Rain washed fence” by Priyambada Nath via Flickr.
Welcome! I am a lawyer turned freelance writer, essayist, and editor. On staff at Literary Mama and the co-founder and co-editor of the literary journal, The Sunlight Press, my essays and reported work have appeared in The Washington Post, The Lily, Saveur, Civil Eats, Brain, Child, ESPN and elsewhere. I am currently at work on a memoir on grief and culture and how it provides perspective on life’s ordinary graces. I invite you to appreciate the ordinary with me. I hope my daily practice of seeing the magic in the mundane helps you celebrate and find more of these moments in your life too.