In 1999, after giving birth to Margarita, I became ill and was told by doctors to rest for a year. This whole event is chronicled elsewhere, thanks to regular blogging, but the most important thing really is that, because of this major fact, my husband and I found ourselves in terrible financial straits.
Teodoro, my firstborn, was about to turn three, and, if I remember correctly, had already started seeing a therapist twice a week. The doctors were not yet prepared to declare that he had autism, but was only possibly delayed. So there was that mounting list of needs too.
I have journals in number documenting this year. I guess the first point of this blog would be to encourage everyone to keep a journal. For the moment, journaling allows you to pin down abstractions, pin down fear, pin down hope, pin down desire, pin down helplessness, pin down joy, pin down grace while you’re writing. For the imagined future, it allows you to see what you’ve become, what you’ve survived, what overwhelmed you (probably measly things by now!), what could break your heart, and ultimately, how you were never actually as alone as you thought you were.