It Won't Last Forever

On my little brother's first roller coaster ride, as he realized the gravity of what was about to happen, my dad told him, "It won't last forever." My brother chanted that reassurance to himself until the ride ended. I imagine his young mind latching onto the saying with the same determination with which his little hands gripped the handlebar in front of him.

The phrase has become a sort of mantra in my family, one we still use some 20 years later. We usually reference it with a chuckle, a gentle reminder that no matter how scary or troubling a situation, it will eventually end. It won't last forever. It won't last forever. I realize there are grave situations in which this would bring little comfort, but it does come in handy in places like the gynecologist office and airport security lines, or when you have a head full of soggy cotton and a cough interrupting every other thought.

The latter is why I've been using the mantra, reminding myself that no matter how lethargic and pitiful I feel right now, this doesn't doom me to a lifetime of cloudy thinking and an incessant need for naps. (Okay, truth be told: I do love a good nap, even when I'm healthy.) I've caught myself feeling hints of panic over the past few days, worrying that the ideas in my head will stay muffled and just out of reach, like underwater mirages.

But that's just crazy talk.

I'm swimming my way back up to the surface here, hoping you'll join me from whatever depths (or shallows) you're currently in.