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
Crash
I sat in the passenger seat, laughing, recounting the crazy things my former students said to me as I returned to the school as a substitute teacher. Then there was a sound that took my breath away. Crunching. My chest lunged into the seatbelt and my head snapped forward; a roller coaster I never wanted to ride. “Oh God. Please don’t let this be how it ends.” My head snaps back into the headrest.
Let it Scar
When someone passes, words, my profession, are sometimes inadequate to stitch up the wounds of someone in pain. Sometimes, we need to let the wound bleed and when the scar is there, tend to it. The aftercare of wounds is sometimes a matter of life and death.
A Sturgeon Moon
What comes next when staring at a new season of life, especially when winter falls before our summer has even been written?
Celebrations
My phone holds “Speech Assistant,“ a Text to Speech Augmentative/Alternative Communication (AAC) app on my homescreen as well, which I have used time and again to speak for myself in times of celebration when the words in my heart would not make their way into the world.
Blue Memory
Jonathan recalls memories of walking the shores of the Gulf of Mexico with appreciation for what was and possibly can be. Some stories yearn to be told even when they feel out of reach.
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.
The Commencement
A teacher says goodbye to his classroom after attending the high school commencement ceremony.
24 Years and an Ocean Away
A teacher prepares to leave the field after returning for a brief time while battling a debilitating illness.
