Margaret Felice

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The Last Five Years

November 28, 2015 · Filed Under: faith, Health, People · Tagged With: crohn's, family, health, marriage

12313511_10153804552109165_9219379918466596040_nFive years ago I turned thirty, and everything was fine.

I was working steadily in the fields that I love, music and theology. I had a small apartment in a great location. I had wonderful friends near and far and was in complete control of what I did with my time. My life was a lot like it had been when I turned 25, and I didn’t want anything to change.

Two months later the man who would become my husband sat down next to me on the train. Though we lived nearly three hours from each other and both considered ourselves too old to waste time on relationships that weren’t going anywhere, a few weeks of phone calls proved that we wanted to see more of each other. Suddenly, I wasn’t in control of my time anymore, having learned that my suspicion was right: when I met someone who made me want to rearrange my busy schedule for them, I would know I’d found the real thing.

Same haircut, same teeth.
Same haircut, same teeth. Five years less experience. 

We lived apart, and as hard as that was neither of us wanted to compromise our careers by moving without the right job in place. So we waited, and waited, and waited.

Meanwhile, I started throwing up all the time.

In an effort to get to the point, here’s the short version: I developed Crohn’s disease, managed a chronic illness and a long distance relationship for more than three excruciating years, and finally had to have surgery on the day my dear one finally started a job in the same city as I am (which also happened to be the day a blizzard landed in Boston). My surgery left me with a temporary ostomy which was reversed ten days before our wedding. We bought a condo and my disease is in remission and we live in the same place and I am thirty-five and I can’t quite believe everything that happened.

Here’s what I’ve learned.

The importance of listening. I am ashamed at how poor a listener I can be. I learned through sharing my own story of illness how essential it is to have someone who listens to you. I also learned that one can learn to listen.

That I was right to be so busy in my twenties. I shudder at the prescience with which I chose to work my tail off in my twenties. I knew that someday I wouldn’t be able to work as hard as I was then, I would be glad to have amassed some social, artistic and financial capital. Make hay when the sun shines, as the saying goes.

People will surprise you with generosity. I was one of those smug self-sufficient “I don’t like taking help from people” people until I needed help. My coworkers covered classes when I was too sick to come in, my mom walked through a blizzard to accompany me to the hospital, and my friends gave me books when I was out on medical leave. One of my cousins threw me a Pinterest-worthy bridal shower (also during a snow storm) a few weeks after my surgery, when I was in so much pain I could barely see, helping to redeem a very difficult season in my life.

There are way more important things to worry about than what people think of you. Or how you look, or how much you weigh, or how pretty you are compared to other people. Let’s all agree not to waste time on that.

I will always have something to contribute. When my illness was nearing its worst I went to Zambia with some coworkers to work with a school in Lusaka. I came back home exhausted and still sick, but comforted by the realization that I am not doomed to sit on the couch for the rest of my life contributing nothing. Being productive is important to me; it didn’t have to stop because of my illness.

What I contribute does not define who I am. Even when I can’t be productive, I still have value because I was loved into being. I am fortunate that the people around me love me ferociously, but even if I didn’t have that example of God’s love, I would still be beloved.

Most importantly, I learned to live with the inevitability of change from which I had hidden for so long.

I learned that each day dawns with hope and promise even when I am in pain.

I learned that there is always, always joy, even when surface bears pain and tears.

I learned that this is what it means to pray always.

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8 Comments

Comments

  1. @clivepansi says

    November 29, 2015 at 4:23 am

    I like the story its Very interesting

    Reply
  2. Fran Rossi Szpylczyn says

    November 29, 2015 at 7:23 am

    Happy birthday – blessings and joy on 35, and on every thing that will follow!

    Reply
    • Margaret Felice says

      November 29, 2015 at 8:52 am

      Thank you so very much!

      Reply
  3. Kate isom says

    November 29, 2015 at 8:48 am

    Loved the observation about not worrying about what other people think. Eleanor Roosevelt had a wonderful quote about this.
    “You wouldn’t worry so much about what others think of you if you realized how seldom they do.”

    And on another note, happy birthday. I remember how much joy you brought into your family’s life when you arrived.

    Reply
    • Margaret Felice says

      November 29, 2015 at 8:52 am

      Thank you, Kate! Love the Roosevelt quote – I’m going to use that! Hope you are well.

      Reply
  4. Kate isom says

    November 29, 2015 at 8:51 am

    Eleanor Roosevelt had a wonderful quote –
    “You wouldn’t worry so much about what others think of you if you realized how seldom they do.”

    And on another note, happy birthday. I remember how much joy you brought into your family’s life when you arrived.

    Reply
  5. Maria A Rivas says

    November 29, 2015 at 6:25 pm

    This is so beautiful and true. Thank you for always sharing your words of wisdom and light. Happy happy birthday!!!!!!

    Reply
    • Margaret Felice says

      November 30, 2015 at 7:20 am

      Thank you my love – you have my prayers for a blessed Advent!!

      Reply

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