A sucker-punch is an unexpected uppercut to the diaphragm often referred to as a “bitch move” as it leaves the victim breathless and without defence against the blows that follow.
The aftermath of tragedy can be the same, blow after blow and not a clue how to go on. In the haze, you don’t know what to dodge. Chest constricts, ribs ache, can’t breathe…
Endless paperwork, bills, decisions, loneliness, hopelessness, lostness, and then
Each “special” day comes at you with vengeance. You want to hide away, frightened of the attack. You try to slip into the shadows away from the phone calls and the looks of pity. You just can’t get smacked down anymore. You really don’t think you can finish the bout, you expect that it should kill you.
But it doesn’t.
You live, you don’t know why or how, but you live. Somehow you catch your breath, stand a little taller and you can see the fight. You can dodge the punch you thought would kill you, you stand taller, it doesn’t hit you.
While you were clinging to the side of the ring, gasping for breath, head stooped, you couldn’t see. Couldn’t see hope, couldn’t see love, couldn’t see reason. In those moments where the pangs of grief didn’t engulf you, breath filled your lungs and gave oxygen to hope. As you dared to step out of the shadows and pray for more, healing could come. The bruises fade and your limp disappears. God heard you.
You can see what’s coming, you know what to expect and it’s possible to prepare for it. You are stronger. The initial tragedy hasn’t changed but you have. You don’t cower, you see the pain differently.
Yes, you are stronger.
Trust grows, determination deepens, and hope for a future does return. Never the same, but grit your teeth and turn to face the fight, step into it knowing you are strong.
Hope returned. I love Hope.