My Shoes

I need no sympathy. No attention. And definitely don’t try to gloat on the rewards it has given. Merely here to get you up and moving. To show you that you can too. No matter the path you’re on. Or off of. What you’ve been given. Or had taken away. There are so many sacrifices to this as well. Just speaking on this recent journey that I’ve chosen.

I knew this path wouldn’t be easy. From the start to the finish. I’m leaving all I’ve known. My life. My children. My family. My friends. It’s brutal at times. Lonely. Yet liberating. I stand on my own two feet. Tall. Steady. I have no fear of what is ahead. Where I’m going. Or where I’ll end up. Complete opposite of my Mother and siblings. The wild child.

I board the plane. Alone. Unpack my life from a suitcase in a tiny room that I’ll call home for weeks. The first day is always the longest day for my children. Time goes by slow for them as they readjust. I start my assignment. Throwing myself into the high alert, red areas of Covid. Not even thinking twice. While others question my decisions. Walking into to the unknown. Nerves on edge. People I don’t know. Death numbers unknown. Rationing care of others family members. Fear of being exposed myself. Never making it back to Indiana. Seeing my people again. Either by Covid and being that small statistic of “younger” people with no comorbidities or exploring the wrong area alone. Some of my days and nights are painfully long. While others are truly enlightening. It’s always a toss up.

I cry because I miss my kids. I’m reassured nothing changes while I’m gone. Do what you’re passionate about. Make that money. Change peoples lives. Most can’t put themselves in my shoes. They try. But can’t. The travel. The unknown. The distance. I put myself here. I knew all the negatives. I knew this was something I couldn’t do with a partner. So I jumped on the the chance to do this while I recreate myself. My next love, when I’m ready, will be with someone who truly wants me. Not someone who needs me. I’ve been thankful to have that attribute my whole life. No book will teach you that. Or happiness.

The positives. So many. Besides missing my tribe. On the move for 14 weeks will equate to over 60 weeks of work at home. I have everything I need. Want. And then some. I’m aiding my children in being just as independent as I am. Which the world needs. I’m seeing some of the most beautiful places in the US. That I may never had been given the chance to see. My kids as well. I’m changing lives of patients I meet. Some days just simply by a touch. Because they don’t or cannot see family. I’m doing my part, as a nurse, to bring this crisis to a rest. I’m following my calling. I couldn’t imagine living this one life, just existing.

There may be bumps in the road. And the adjustment after coming home is also sometimes brutal. Just trying to fit back in after being gone from everyone. Not knowing my place there. I’m not in the battlefield but I sure can sympathize with military people coming back home after being away. It sure is an adjustment. You kinda lose your place. And if people don’t do what you do, they don’t understand. Tears shed. But I’m living. Pushing myself to the limit. Challenging myself. Doing better. Being better.

Save more. Work less. My new motto. Build my empire enough to sit back and watch my children continue to shape themselves. Quality time with family and friends. Graduate and take an even bigger step toward helping others.

Make goals, work on them and watch your life change. I promise. I’m living proof. You can’t do it overnight. But sure as hell can do it alone.