We all carry something heavy. A feeling, a memory, a change in routine, an acceptance, a revelation, a reckoning, a reflection, a diagnosis, a journey….

Whether that be in physical form or solely in your mind’s eye…. we all carry the weight of this thing called Life.

I was able to have a few splendid days away, in a cozy hideaway, to be around a small group of family and friends, some of whom I haven’t seen in over a decade.

Singing is hard for me now, but I found myself humming around the warm kitchen, waking up with the sun, and drawing in a deep breath of air that had somehow escaped the August humidity.

But my husband and I just came home. And while it is wonderful to return, the restlessness of Life returns.

There are bills to be paid, appointments to make, plans to arrange for the weeks ahead, decisions…. hard decisions to dwell on.

I have found myself starting to feel a nervous energy while simultaneously surrounded by normalcy (whatever normal is) and its consistent (while reassuring) mundane pattern.

Somehow, life is both complex and routine all at the same time. It has moments as insignificant as the dust filtering in the sunlight and as magnificent as the stardust we are literally made of.

I have found myself just sitting here, waiting on tomorrow. Waiting to see what it brings with it as I leave the safe space of family and friends. Waiting to see what this new diagnosis of Parkinson’s disease has in store and if I will be up for the fight ahead. If I will be brave enough to face it and its relentless challenges.

We recently moved to a new home, and I have been sifting through photos to put up next to our bed.

I had originally wanted to put up a photo of my husband and I at a recent wedding, with him looking dapper and me all pretty in pink. A snapshot of how I thought life would be, a future that I had accepted and worked hard for.

But this was the better fit. Because as I sit here, slightly unnerved for no real reason other than the unforeseeable future, I see this photo I barely remember taking.

Tired and looking out over the Great Lakes, I had wanted my husband to take a selfie with me and the sunset. The shot that ended up happening was a quick kiss on the cheek because he refused to put up with any more of my “silly selfies.”

It’s so beautiful. It’s real. I’m tired and sore from the day. The sun is setting fast, and I’m in a rush. I’m constantly chasing time……….

And it reminds me….in this moment, it’s me who is creating what is so heavy to hold.

And my sweet husband is the ease of that burden.

The sun will set and rise tomorrow, come what may.

And I will return to my perfectionism and nervous energy. I will have to face Parkinson’s disease because it is not just a diagnosis; it is a part of me now.

But I will learn from this moment as well.

And maybe, when I look at this photo again, I will remember he carries something heavy too, and maybe I will be the one to lighten the load.

We all carry something heavy. And sometimes the only way is to carry it all on our own.

But to be open to seeing what is right in front of us (for me, a photo of myself literally staring back at me), there can be reminders that the weight of the world is ours to share with those who love us the most…. if only we are brave enough to share it.