What a difference two dozen hours can make. Last night this time, my mom was in the hospital. Tonight, she’s peacefully sleeping in her own bed.

Was it a stroke?

Was it a bad reaction to medication?

Will it happen again?

My mind has so many questions, but I’m not sure I want answers to any of them. It doesn’t matter why it happened or how. What matters is that it happened. Growth is a process. It’s not always beautiful. It’s not always easy. But, it’s always beneficial. A newborn baby has no idea how to stand, let alone run a marathon but with growth over time, he learns just how much those little legs can actually do.

I am grateful. Tonight, I am very very grateful. I’m grateful that I have purpose. Purpose is the small voice in my head that encourages me to be strong even when I would rather crumble. Purpose is the smile that decorates my face while my heart is simultaneously breaking. Purpose helps me accept the painful, ugly phases of the process.

Trouble doesn’t last always.

There’s a time for weeping, but also a time for joy.

I am excited to see where the road leads next.

I am Eryka

Written 12/9/17 @ 9pm

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