It Could Be Worse

There are worse things than being fat.

Like your husband crashing his motorcycle and being in the hospital for a week. Like watching your husband crash his motorcycle. Like your husband having broken ribs and a collapsed lung. Like your husband being in pain every day.

On July 21, Craig bought a motorcycle in Sidney. At 9:30 that night, just a few miles east of Pompey's Pillar, a deer jumped in front of him and he put the bike down. The bike got a dent. Craig got road rash, and those broken ribs and collapsed lung I mentioned. It was the worst thing that either of us have been through.

And the best thing. We've been more honest with each other these last few weeks than all summer. We have new perspective on life and our priorities. We are taking action about his health, my health, our relationship health. Our finances are being addressed. We've made new connection with God, expressing gratitude each day that Craig is alive, and his injuries weren't more severe.

We've had great support from friends and family. That includes daily meals from coworkers at the Gazette. So while I certainly have weight and exercise and nutrition on my mind, it's not the most important thing. In fact, it takes a back burner. I'm just happy if I remember to eat, let alone get us both showered, dressed and out of the house in a day.

I start a new job next week, and it's hard to be excited. Right now I'm just allowing myself grace and forgiving myself for finding comfort in brownies. It's gotta stop soon, I know, but there are moments when it's all just too much.

So hopefully I'll be more active on here starting next week. But for right now, I just am happy to be a wife with a husband. At any size.