A Day in the Life
This post was originally published on Corrina’s Caringbridge site: https://www.caringbridge.org/visit/corrina
Today marks the start of a revolving door of California visitors for us as we welcome one of Corrina’s dearest friends Andrew, then follow that right up on Sunday with the return of Corrina’s dad David (oka ‘senior’, as I am ‘junior’), and close out the show with Corrina's brother Dylan next week.
The level of activity in our home has ramped up significantly over the past two days, more so than we’ve had in months. Yesterday, we had an inspiring, soothing visit from Corrina’s friend Kate who arrived with guitar in tow. Kate sang through a couple of beautiful numbers and graciously allowed me to accompany her. It felt so good to fill the home with music.
And today, between Andrew’s arrival, visits from Adriana and her beautiful daughter Guinevere, Steve (Corrina’s stepfather) and his brother Bobby dutifully installing a bannister, Claudia, me, and Corrina - our little house was bursting at the seams with activity, but it was joyful and uplifting.
As we wound down the evening, Andrew reinforced something that I’ve been thinking of increasingly and eluded to in my last post. I have the ability to share Corrina with you (our community) through these posts and I should do so more often.
I know you feel her absence. Corrina was the foundation of so much routine in your lives. Well, I believe that it is now my responsibility (and ability!) to perpetuate that as much as possible and give you back some of that routine by sharing our life with greater consistency.
Each previous post I made, admittedly, took a lot out of me. They were heavy and, though cathartic, they were difficult to write. That became my association with this site to an extent. It started as an opportunity to share details as Corrina’s diagnosis unfolded, but what do you write about when things become relatively uneventful (thank God) and you’re just living your life?
Andrew reminded me that it doesn’t have to be profound. Just write. Just share Corrina.
In all her day-to-day glory. I wish I could share with you every laugh we have and every smile that beams from her face. I wish you could all see the light that shines from her eyes on a daily basis. You know what I’m talking about. It’s the purest, brightest light I, for one, have ever known.
This is my opportunity to share that with all of you who can’t see her with frequency. I’ll share the highs and the lows. I’ll share the happenings AND the mundane.
Everyday is filled with managing Corrina’s health and striving to fill her with happiness and inspiration. Some days we succeed. Other days are harder. We live with a fairly consistent sadness ebbing right below the surface of our sense of control. Sometimes it rises up and overwhelms us, but most of the time, just like the past few days, we control it and bask in the joy and routine of being together.
Corrina is happy. And that is everything.
