Castaway

We went to Florida recently to visit friends and to see our family. My son’s nanny from when things were at there worst had moved to Miami with her family. On our last few trips, we flew in to see them before heading over to see my parents.

In addition to her understanding our son’s history, they are just good, generous people who are part of our family now. They moved away just over a year ago and have established themselves in their new city. They have a child of her own now that she takes care of and her husband has a good job. We stayed with them at an adorable house they bought not far from the city. They took us to the beach and to different eateries nearby. We got a glimpse of their new life in their new home.

One night while we were down there, my wife started crying. She said she felt like we were stuck in the same life while everyone else’s lives move on. I felt the same way.

Maybe it was the tropical air and the palm trees, but I thought the Tom Hank’s movie Castaway. In it, the main character survives a plane crash only to be stranded on an island in the middle of the ocean. Years go by until he is eventually rescued. When he returns to civilization, he finds that the world has moved on without him. Technology has advanced. Friends have moved on with their own lives.

The world is moving on without us. Our lives may be slightly better or slightly worse in some areas compared to previous years. I have a new job and we have a new house but, as a whole, it feels like the same life. We’re still struggling with a sick kid, with seizures, with behavior issues. We’re still dealing with school, and doctors, and appointments, and therapies. We’re still making food for the ketogenic diet and picking up prescriptions at the pharmacy.

Maybe it feels this way because we’re still in the middle of it. It’s hard to feel like you’ve moved on when you aren’t able to let go of anything to the past. When everything is present, there is no moving on. When you wake up and have the same day over and over again, you’re like the character in the movie, stranded on an island while the rest of the world moves on without you.

Originally published at Epilepsy Dad.