Illness is like an ocean,
dragging you deeper into its depths before the waves calm.
The destruction of depression,
the sting of salty tears,
the smell of sadness,
all swelling inside you,
holding you down like an anchor at sea.

Multiple Sclerosis is the shark lurking in the dark banks of the ocean,
silently selecting its newest prey.
Or maybe it’s less of a shark as it is a jellyfish,
beautiful on the outside,
yet dangerous to the touch.
Stinging it’s victims and leaving scars of sorrow and wonder.
The wonder of “Where’d it come from?”
and “Why’d it happen to me?”

Eight years ago, the jellyfish emerged and stung my family,
leaving my father scarred and wounded.
Causing our family’s boat to shipwreck,
as if we had gotten caught in
the eye of a storm,
a tsunami.

As our ship continues to float along
slowly but surely sinking into
this blue immense grave yard,
I’m learning to appreciate the beauty of life.
The never-ending waves of love that somehow
wash away my families worries.
The endless and continuous worry of
the day when our ship
will actually sink.