Evaporating darkness

My early morning row this morning had me quietly cutting through the fog in my boat
I love the rhythmic cadence of the movement; it’s like making music, really. This time of year is always magical to be on the water, as the air temperature drops below the water temperature and you are swallowed up whole by the rising steam.

I haven’t felt this relaxed or fulfilled on the water in a long time. Maybe because I haven’t felt like rowing, haven’t felt like doing much of the things I love these last few years, really. It’s been a rough go of it, the IF, losing my dad, my cancer scare, my mom’s cancer and then her heart attack. I would make myself do it, try to trick myself into finding the beauty in it, but I seldom did, until this morning.

With each stroke, my world quickly became less and less discernable, and slowly as the shore began to fade into the fog, so did my own darkness. I felt light, the stroke felt easy, effortless. There were no landmarks to remind me of where I was, I just glided along in my new foreign surrounding, and then suddenly, there it was, the undeniable beauty, the feeling I hadn’t felt in so long, there it was spilling over from my heart right into my boat. The feeling was strong and powerful, just like I had remembered, the scene no longer felt strange or foreign, either, but so familiar and comforting. These were the moments that used to make me feel alive and joyful, and there I was, right in the middle of all of it.

There were many days and nights during my IF struggles that I wondered if I would ever feel like me again, or if that girl had been swallowed up whole by endometriosis. Many times I would answer that question with a hopeless no, and some days hearing that in my head was more than I felt I could bear. Who was I if I couldn’t enjoy my life?

This morning I realized the answer has always been yes.

As I looked over and saw my husband rowing beside me, I knew it was a morning to cherish. We won’t be able to do this early morning row together once the baby arrives. These mornings over the next 5 months deserve to be savored and truly enjoyed.