A Season of Cranberries and Gratitude

DSC_2444The rains have arrived on the back of the cast-off leftovers of a tropical hurricane, drenching the west coast after a summer of drought. The wind pushes against the windows at night, the moisture clouds the glass, the cloying pressure swirls around my joints once again. In the morning, the sun teases us with a glimpse of its golden light, coloring the clouds with burnished ginger, lighting the ruddy leaves of autumn in the mists of daybreak.

The cooler months always pose more of a challenge – I have longer periods of stiffness in the mornings, I wake more often at night with the discomfort of inflammation, I have more fatigue, my knees are puffy, my fingers swollen – but I am ready to carry on with the new silhouette of my life. I have learned to accept and be grateful for the things I can do, rather than focussing on what I can’t. RA taught me not to take for granted the most basic things in life – walking, opening a jar, wearing rings, tying shoelaces, turning a key, gripping a handle, opening a door. The simplest things hold the most power over our lives, and I have discovered how to appreciate the random triumphs of each one. I learned how to test the boundaries of my new limits, made adjustments when necessary and embraced new activities that are no less satisfying than the ones I left behind.

Despite the advent of crisp mornings that summon the return of the biting inflammation of RA, I am prepared to immerse myself in the canvas of a new season, taking pleasure in the fragrance of the charred smoke from toiling chimneys, enjoying the kaleidoscopic hues of the painted leaves and the tangy scent of the cranberry bogs infusing the air. It is Thanksgiving weekend and I have much to celebrate. I am grateful for having had a temporary reprieve thanks to an unusually arid summer, giving me the gift of an increase in energy and the diminished presence of RA for a few months. I returned to the stage in a physically demanding show, enjoyed some trips to the Naramata Valley of B.C and visited the blushing canyons of Nevada; I swam, I walked, I participated in a specialized pool class where I mastered a new method of physical challenges, and I revelled in ephemeral pockets of forgetfulness. I rediscovered traces of my power before the arrival of RA and found a way to draw upon them when needed.

With all the complications this disease can bring, it has not won. I am fortunate to possess the imagination to transform its ruthless shadow, and shape it to the contours of my life. There are many years of good days, bad days, accomplishments and struggles to come – but this weekend I will sit at the table with loved ones, surrounded by good food and wine, and be thankful for all I have, and all I have yet to achieve.092

Happy Thanksgiving. Wishing everyone a plentiful season filled with health, happiness and the courage to persevere.

6 thoughts on “A Season of Cranberries and Gratitude

Add yours

  1. Our daughter is a very strong young woman. She has chosen to face her RA with courage and determination.
    We are extremely proud of all her accomplishments. She shares her experiences on her blog, and hopefully, is helping other people facing RA to handle it with encouragement for the future.
    We are very thankful she is our daughter. Happy Thanksgiving everyone!

  2. I love the imagery of burnished ginger. Your posts are always so lyrical and such a pleasure to read. I hope you are compiling them into a book, and thereby spreading hope and illumination to many who deal with autoimmune disease. It is possible to face this with so much grace as you so skillfully show us.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.

Blog at WordPress.com.

Up ↑

%d bloggers like this: