#SOL19 – Day Four
Dear Carrie,
I know it seems bleak right now. You were awakened out of a deep sleep with that call from LifeAlert telling you that Mom had fallen. You ran down the hall to find her sitting on the bathroom floor with both legs in front of her, the right one ever so slightly bent at the knee oddly turning the wrong way. You knew it was broken. She seemed to know it, too.
The many days ahead of ER visits, surgery, code red, physical and occupational therapies, crying, giving up, trying again, the rehab floor and the rehab facility will pay off in the end.
One year from now I predict you will have Mom home – down the hall from you – and things will settle down.
It will be challenging at first.
You will muster up strength that you never knew you had inside.
You will become a boss of a different type than is the norm for you.
You will have to tell grown women to stop whining. To stop being mean to Mom.
You will wonder if it is possible to continue.
People will share stories with you about their parent’s caregivers becoming part of the family. You realize that probably won’t be the case for you – but just because your story is different doesn’t mean that it won’t work.
As you near the second summer of your new “normal”, you may begin to question yourself again. Some nights there will be zero strength left. Then, on most weekends you will regain the energy that was zapped during the week and you will carry on.
There is much life left to be lived.
I promise.
Love, Carrie
carrieiswriting 
This is heartfelt and honest and the emotion seeped through the letters. I love this format. I am sending you strength and love and positivity for now and the upcoming weeks as you come to terms with your new normal. You are right- there is much life to be lived. Powerful.
A beyond promising last line. There is much life left to be lived. Quality of life has been so much on my mind this past year. Your hope and drive ring through every line.
“just because your story is different” .. so true. Strength seems to come from deep inside to do what we must. Your positivity will serve you well.
Love the love in this piece — for your mom and for yourself!
I hope you will reread your beautiful letter to yourself often. And I hope your mom heals quickly.
What a smart way to stay afloat. Love the positivity. Naming all the things and predicting the good and the difficult to come. You must have a very healthy mind, heart, and soul. Best of luck and thank you for sharing.
so good, moments like those are so scary. Glad you can encourage yourself that it will get better!
How insightful to write a letter to yourself. Extending kindness, speaking truth and encouragement is a wonderful way to take care of you in this journey with your mom. Thanks for modeling how to be authentic and graceful in times of difficulty.
Truly, there are no words! You are strong, insightful, and beautiful!! Your mom has raised an incredible daughter.
This piece hits close to home for me. I have been through this process of writing to your past self. Although it is such a powerful process, man does it tug on the strings of the heart. I’m getting the same emotions while reading, that you had while writing. I just know it, because I feel it through your words. I’m sorry that I didn’t read this before today. Hugs are in order when I see you tomorrow. ♥
*sigh* Yeah.. too, too powerful, it’s time for me to do this.
My daughter just received a letter she wrote herself in the 7th grade. She’s a sophomore in high school. Your letter inspires me to have my students do the same thing, with an “I promise” focus: What struggles do you have now that will inform your life tomorrow? What do you sense you need to tell your future self & motivate yourself tomorrow? What difficulties do you have now, that you predict won’t go away soon, and what wisdom can you impart on your future self?
I need to hear myself tell myself these words. Thank you for this. *print*