All good things don’t necessarily end, they change like the seasons…
“All good things” is a place for anyone with OR without chronic illness, debilitating illness, disability, or the carers for us to come and get away for 5 minutes to have a read and a piece of hope. Goodness can come out of hardship, and darkness can cloak itself for only so long until it bursts into the light.
Warmly,
Jonathan
“Hope is the last thing that dies. Maybe because hope is one of those dratted things that is truly, honestly, genuinely immortal.”
-Vera Nazarian
“All Good Things”
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One Lifetime Isn’t Enough
One lifetime is not enough. It feels selfish to write these words; still I do at age 43.
Some will say I’m cutting myself out of roles I could be cast in by disclosing this number.
Some will say that the act of writing creative nonfiction will tank my teaching career.
Some will say I am fulfilling a prophecy by manifesting what I write.
Return to Start
That’s your chapter right now. I’ve faced the disease–now it’s time to walk with the illness. From surgeries to being hit by a car, I faced a few things that seem like a really twisted fairytale this year. Very unexpected things. I’ve gone to rehabilitation to get back to where I was one year ago. I returned to start.
Summer Remission
I sit drinking my club soda and lemon, with my legs crossed as I sit on a barstool across from my friend. The bar is dark with cherry-wood high top pub tables. A green pool table with a red awning just within my sight line. I stop and look down. I’m sitting on a stool, wearing flip-flops. In retrospect, I imagine it’s what hiking in high heels must feel like. I smile.
When the Bleeding Stops
They say: “All good things must come to an end.” Vacations, family gatherings, a piece of birthday Godiva chocolate cheesecake, a piece of yourself…
All good things…
A former educator for those with special needs finds the next chapter in life he was searching for. The “All Good Things” blog is moving to Medium.
That Old Life: Myelin, Magic, and Memory
I try to make others feel comfortable with my condition, and that Chronic Inflammatory Demyelinating Polyneuropathy (CIDP) with central nervous system involvement doesn’t make me angry. Or sad. Or scared. But fear is part of this journey and the medication I choose today is a return to a shade of blue that can only be called peace.
Something Blue
Upon exiting the teaching profession, a teacher wonders searches for what to do next.
