Listening to old voicemails

I don’t know what possessed me to do so, but this morning while Nick was sleeping soundly next to me, I put in my headphones and listened to old voicemails from right after Nick’s accident. I’ve never done this before. Most of them I don’t remember ever receiving in the first place. I mean, I’m pretty sure I listened to them, but I don’t know if I really heard them. I listened to friends’ voices this morning that I don’t remember hearing since long before Nick’s accident, and some I was pretty sure never contacted me at all when they heard the news. Boy was I wrong! (One of these days I’ll go through the 1000+ blog messages and be utterly blown away!)

I’m chalking this up to being completely stressed out, overwhelmed, and consumed with hospital life stuff. But still, it doesn’t feel good to know I completely ignored people who reached out to me, who cared enough to call (or write!) to see how I was doing. I can say too, that I’m kind of a loner. Being raised as an only child, I thrive in silence and solitude, rather than clamor and conversation. That’s just how I work. Maybe that’s why I like to write; I get to “think out loud” in the silence.

The voicemails started my day today with love and happiness. I could feel the caring and urgency in my friends’ voices. I’m flooded with emotions just thinking how frustrating it must have been not knowing how to help. I know this blog kept people in the loop whom I just didn’t have time to personally connect with, but still, I can’t help but feel my own frustration for not making better effort to communicate directly.

Thank you. Thank you to everyone who reached out. Who leant us a hand, a smile, a heart. Who listened, or stood by waiting, who wrote encouraging words, or clicked “donate.” Thank you to the strangers we now call friends, and the friends we now call family. Thank you to everyone who made our journey just a little bit easier. And thank you for the forgiveness if I’ve carelessly put you aside while making sense of my own struggles. I’m sorry, but I’m grateful.