Our wedding was a testament to the possibility of these dreams. It truly was a celebration of life. The future of our dreams never felt more possible. It was only two short months ago, but James and I have spent few days since outside of hospitals. We went immediately from entering the next phase in our lives (and the beginning of our lives together) to a devastating crisis of potential death. I do not believe that we were naive, but there was certainly an illusion of health, or in the least, a sense of stability. James had an incredible year post-transplant with few to no complications. We were not prepared for his rapid deterioration.
That is also another important part of all this to place in context. In many ways, I think James and I were still recovering from the trauma of his first transplant (and the following year of long-distance relationship). I had emerged from the severity of my depression in our first year together (and the ECT that left permanent blanks in my memory), but the recent death of my Bubie left me feeling fragile (and vulnerable to another episode of depression). There was a lot of transition and change (to say the least). We were still putting the pieces of our lives back together.
Now, James and I must create new dreams for ourselves, for each other, and most importantly, together. Some of these dreams may be the same as those from the past. We can find a balance between living one day at a time (and from one moment to the next), and creating a world for our future together. We don't need to let go of them all. It is the hope for something different that makes imagining a future together possible. We need that hope to the same extent that James and I need to focus on gratitude for every shared moment.