How I’ve Found Meaning in All the Madness in My Life
I’m a believer that everything happens for a reason. I’ve had this deep-rooted belief as long as I can remember. It’s been tested time and time again throughout my life, and perhaps most people won’t understand why I would still believe it at all. Maybe it helps me cope with the numerous traumatic events I’ve endured. Maybe it’s just the way I was brought up and a reflection of my parents’ beliefs or the little bit of optimism I have in me. Most likely it’s a little of all the above.
This belief has gotten me through the tragic death of my brother, the Cystic Fibrosis diagnosis of my youngest son, and my oldest son’s Tourette syndrome diagnosis. I’m also hoping this belief will help me get through the recent loss of our 15-month-old daughter to childhood cancer.
I remind myself that without my brother dying, I most likely would never have met my soul mate. Without the diseases and disorders my children have had, there would be so many great people I would never have met. Without my daughter’s cancer, I wouldn’t know how kind, giving and loving strangers from all over the world can be.
I’m sure there are positives that came out of these things for other people. Maybe these events have made some people stronger, more thankful or given them reason to form closer relationships with their loved ones. As hard as it is to sometimes look at these things in an optimistic way, sometimes it’s the only way — the only way to not start a downward spiral of self-pity and depression.
Please don’t get me wrong. I wish like hell these things had never happened. I want my brother and daughter back immensely. I want my boys to live normal lives. But I know these wishes cannot be granted, so I guess I have to do the next best thing and keep moving. Keep pushing. And part of that has to come from the little bit of optimism that is left in me and the belief that there really is reason to all this madness.
This post originally appeared on A Splendidly Imperfect Existence.
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