One of the things that kept my head above water, so to speak, during my recent bout with deep depression was a sentence, three words long, that I borrowed from another blogger, Mary Tuel, earlier this year. She had written about a young couple just starting life together, then went on about life in general, our passages through it. I am quoting from that post:
- "So you reach this point and look around, and son of a gun, you’re still here. Read it out loud: “I’m still here!” Say it again: “I’m still here.” If you can say that, if you can think that, the party isn’t over, and the music is still playing. "
In my darkest hours, when I began to contemplate the unthinkable, I believe what kept me going was saying, "I'm still here!" each morning when I awoke. Those three words burrowed into my subconscious, where they kept the fires of hope banked, sometimes only embers, but waiting for me to stoke them into flames again. I did that, eventually, with help from all of you who visit here, and other friends who don't read my blog. But enough about that. This post is about Mary, and her husband Rick, who are going through a very rough time right now.
In October, Rick Tuel was hit with a recurrence of bladder cancer, which he had fought several years before. This time, however, his kidneys failed, something he and Mary had not anticipated. Mary started a second blog to chronicle their "adventures." Rick valiantly, and with good humor, is coping about as well as one might expect under these circumstances.
So, why am I telling you about Mary? I owe her, though I'm certain she would disagree. I came to know Mary through my therapist, Beth. At the end of one of my sessions over a year ago, Beth asked me to listen to a song she thought had value for me, if I would pay attention. It was from an album of music written, sung and produced by three women out in Washington state. The track Beth played for me was the album title piece, "I Won't Wait to be Happy," a wry, humorous declaration of independence and personal empowerment. Evidently, Beth thought I needed the message. She was right, of course, as usual.
I sent away to Mary, one of the three, for a copy of the CD, because I liked the way she thought, as evidenced by the song I had heard. We emailed back and forth a couple of times,and I learned about her blog, Spiritual Smart Aleck.
Mary writes with an ease that I envy. She shoots from the hip...or the lip, I guess. I admire her outlook on life, her wonderful sense of humor, and - mostly - her strength.
For better or worse (depending upon your point of view), I am a blogger because of Mary. She, unknowingly, encouraged me to try writing again, and is partly responsible for this blog. (If you think my blogging is a mistake, don't blame her, though. I started this mess.)
I am glad to know Mary and deeply appreciate the help she has given me, although she didn't even know she had done anything. This post is to introduce my blog-friend, Mary Livingston Tuel, to the rest of you.
And to say, "Thank you, Mary. I owe you."
(c) 2009 Martha McLemore Photo of Mary borrowed from her blog, Spiritual Smart Aleck.
