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The anticipation had been building for months. Every time my milestone birthday came to mind, I felt sad. By 40, surely I’d meet all the goals I’d set for my health. I never finished my graduate degree, had no career to speak of, and felt like I was failing at marriage and motherhood. This one thing was still in reach. And if I could just force my body into submission, I could at least be closer to being the wife and mother my loves deserved.

But instead of a triumphant return to strength, I was at my weakest. My stroke had happened four days before my birthday. Todd had planned a dreamy getaway to Kauai, what would’ve been our first couples trip in almost a decade. Instead, I was in bed unable to even feed myself. I couldn’t try to pretend I was happy. I really wondered if I’d ever smile again.

That is definitely not my norm. Naturally, I like to think I have a pretty happy and positive disposition. At the worst of times, I make it my mission to charm even the most curmudgeon. The grumpier the person, the greater the reward to bring them to the other side. Now I was so sad, and there didn’t seem to be any escape.

When “adopted” parents (Pete and Peggy) flew in to the rescue, I felt guilty. The money they must’ve spent, the long flights they endured, the plans they had to cancel. All to fly here to paradise on my birthday, only to work. Every beautiful day reminded me that instead of going out and enjoying it, everyone was stuck inside taking care of and worrying about me.

The look in Peggy’s eyes broke my heart. Her intense worry was all over her face, and I could not protect her from it. All I wanted to do was withdraw from everyone, but needing help meant there was nowhere to hide. It’s uncomfortable for me and for others when I can’t tie a happy hopeful bow on a terrible circumstance. God-forbid I add to their troubles or worse yet, they start to avoid me: The Bottomless Pit of Negativity.

Lately, I want to be avoided. I haven’t wanted to see my friends because I felt embarrassed. Who has a stroke at 39 on top of an ever-increasing list of rare medical issues? What if I can’t find my words? What if my right side goes limp again? What if they ask me questions I can’t or would rather not answer? I can give no bright side or purpose. (God hasn’t filled me in.) I don’t know the cause or the next step forward. How do I get better when brushing my own teeth feels impossibly exhausting?

The list of people I would allow in my orbit was small, but my kids were near the top of list and I let them know it. However instead of drawing near, Ella pulled away. Our (pre-stroke) nightly girl time snuggling in my bed vanished. I had to specifically ask her to come, and every time, she’d leave as soon as she could. Last week I found out why. Being with me, seeing the state I was in, made her sad.

I knew it was time to bring back the silliness. Our normal is to laugh on the daily in my house and the absence of it was affecting everyone. There’s no better sound than my children giggling, and I know exactly how to induce it. At first, it was hard to find the strength when my heart wasn’t in it. Very quickly I realized I needed it just as much.

My mom quickly joined in on the new vibe. She’s quick-witted and has the best one-liners. She’d flown here from Texas the day Pete and Peggy left and was saddened to find my “improvement” was worse than she’d imagined. I needed her honesty and tendency not to mince words as much as her physical help. Recovering from a stroke isn’t just physical. It affects every part of you, and it’s nice to find my sense of humor again.