Perseverance

ˌpər-sə–ˈvir-ən(t)s

NOUN

continued effort to do or achieve something despite difficulties, failure, or opposition : the action or condition or an instance of persevering : steadfastness

I live with a chronic illness that sometimes challenges my efforts. Like the tides, my energy level will ebb and flow. I’ll begin a project with the best of intentions, only to be brought to my knees by my physical ailment. I like to believe that I can out-run or out-smart it, but it usually catches me in the end, and it is then I hit the wall. My creativity will suffer most as it is energy and adrenalin that fuels my quest for the right word or project.

A year ago, I was in the throes of cutting chapters from my novel, To Keep Him Safe, to get it ready to publish. The excitement I felt spurred me on each day. I was looking forward to becoming a published author. I felt as though I had the world by the tail. Just think, there I was, almost 80, getting ready to release to the public my first full-length manuscript.

Since then, so much has happened. If you’ve followed me, you already know the journey between there and here. But for those who may be new to my blog, a synopsis. While in the editing and getting ready to publish, we put our house on the market. It sold quickly and within a month; we sold it, moved, and re-established ourselves in our new home and neighborhood. Anxiously, I waited for the publishing day. My publisher set up a pre-order link, which experienced a few glitches. In the electronic era, you have to love it when it’s working right, but when it’s not… grrrr. Thank goodness for the faithful who stuck with us and submitted their orders. We set dates for book signings and materials gathered to begin to prepare. I got my first shipment of books. I can’t even try to explain the thrill I felt as I opened the box and held my debut novel in my hands. What could go wrong?

Life, that’s what, on the day of the release, my husband complained he didn’t feel well but refused to rain on my parade or see a doctor. We picked up my friend who’d flown in from Pennsylvania on Friday the 15^th of October 2021. I had to change my plans from stopping for a bite to eat out because of hubby’s not feeling well. It was good to meet JoAnn and spend time with her, though. The book signing went off without a hitch. It surprised me that many old friends from years gone by came out. But my husband’s health was a concern, and the success was bittersweet. By Monday night he was in emergency surgery and to make a long story short, the next few months were a rollercoaster ride, not knowing if he would make it back or not. But his perseverance pulled him through and I’m happy to report he is doing well nowadays.

I have attempted to get on track with this blog a few times. I’d sit down with great determination and post a new blog. I would promise myself that I would do at least one blog post a week, hopefully, two. I’d feel good about the response, but sadly, life would once more interfere. I’d begin feeling poorly, which leads to a course in prednisone and antibiotics. I don’t know why, but these episodes steal my motivation, and the creative juices seem to dry up, no matter what I do to break through the fog. It’s difficult for me to admit to being human.

So, here I am once more, hopefully with some still following me, sitting down to begin once again. It is with perseverance I deal with my illness. I’m determined not to let it rule my life, yet sometimes I’m forced to acknowledge it despite my best intentions. Sometimes I believe I make plans and God laughs. Yet I will follow in the footsteps of my mother. She was one of the most tenacious people I’ve ever known. She was told when I was in the 7^th grade that she’d be in a wheelchair within a year. She lived to be in her 70s and was never wheelchair-bound. She’d raise an immense garden on her hands and knees, fight off rattlesnakes with a hoe, and depend on an old cocker spaniel to help her stand after her garden work.

I will, I can, and I must persevere. I can’t afford to give up. I will pull up my bootstraps and stride forward. I live with a chronic illness; I will not give in to it but will strive to live my best life possible. I’ve accomplished many things in the past 22 years since I first heard the words; severe stage emphysema. How could that be? I hadn’t smoked. But I quit worrying about the why and reached for the brass ring. If my life is to end, I want to squeeze the most out of it before I move to that last chapter.

So, for today, I will persevere. Will you join me? Your response feeds me, sadly I’ve gotten used to the instant gratification the computer age brings. So, if you take the time to read could you acknowledge you’ve done so? I draw strength from you all and in return, I pray I can give strength to others.