“Even trained for years as they all had been in precision of language, what words could you use which would give another the experience of sunshine?”
I have been told by several people that I am the strongest person they’ve ever known. I know it’s bad manners to deflect a compliment (because that was the spirit in which they paid it), but I might have to disagree.
I overcompensate, that’s what. I’m the poster child-woman for Napoleonic Tendency. I think. (Add that to the list of maladies, why don’t I?)
Either way, deflecting or overcompensating, these days, I don’t feel so strong. At least not when I’m alone. These days, my husband has been my source of strength.
I don’t know what people see in me, why people love me and stick with me even after everything I had done, but I’m quite simply, grateful. So this, this post-meds afterglow (for lack of a better term), this is me being grateful. Not strong. Precision of language is essential. Precision of meaning.
Meaning is greater than language. And gratitude is stronger than, well, strength.
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