Trying to find joy in each day

Late autumn is traditionally a time when I want to grab time and slow it down. It feels as if the start of springtime was just yesterday. We had quite a spring-summer-fall season, enjoying the desert and high mountains as much as we could. We had a flurry of autumn outings to hike up in the alpine zone or go see the elk rut. Through everything, we were in awe of the golden leaves!

We were lucky because life was smooth sailing through the summer. Although R required extensive time each day to rehab his elbow (and still does), we were free to do as we wished.

Now, it feels like that season has skidded to a stop. And, along with it, a few things have gone wrong. Shyla's epilepsy is the biggest one, and my fractured rib is a smaller one. Epilepsy is likely to be with Shyla for her lifetime while my rib will eventually heal. As long as we can keep Shyla's seizures away and keep her quality of life good, epilepsy is just a side-issue.

We upped her meds about a week ago, and she has returned almost to normal aside from being a little more hyper in the mornings than she used to be. Before her seizures, she used to stay in bed through my breakfast and literally remain ensconced in her warm spot until I called her to go for a bike ride. Now, she's ready to go before the alarm clock goes off at 6 AM!

The Divide looks wintry!

Shyla's eagerness to get going in the morning has helped with our transition to a winter schedule. Every winter, I strive to be out for sunrise because I love seeing the sun peek over the eastern horizon. That's harder these days because my fractured rib hurts a lot in the morning so I make excuses not to get moving. However, I'm trying to plow right through it without missing out on the things that I love.

We almost saw the sunrise this morning. I saw Shyla glow in a shaft of sunlight a few minutes after sunrise. My long time friends know how much I love the winter's morning light.

The winter morning light almost makes up for the loss of the golden leaves and green grass. I do miss them!

Overall, I'd say that I'm struggling a little to get through this transition, partly because of what's happened to Shyla (epilepsy) and to me (fractured rib), and partly because I struggle with it every year. Perhaps the shorter days affect my mood too much.

So, we'll keep trucking along, trying to do the things that bring us joy. Each day is precious, and I truly know it.

I've now lived many more days than my mother was given on this Earth so each day is borrowed time in my mind. I never visualized that I'd outlive her, yet here I am! I'm making the most of it although I still miss her every day.