My dad was bedridden with severe stroke for a couple of years before he died. In that period our entire family faced severe challenges bordering on financial, emotional, mental, physical and even spiritual. It was a real test for all of us, especially for my mother, and some days were a lot better than others.
When an unexpected tragedy happens, it sometimes feels like a test. However, when it drags out longer than it should with no sign of reprieve then it feels like punishment. When it feels like punishment, then the one thing that drives us through such tragic circumstances begins to wither, which is Hope. In the case of my dad after about a year we had seen the maximum extent of improvements he was bound to make in recovery. It was quite abysmal and still rendered him completely dependent on others.
There were days where we leaned on on our collective strengths, including my Father's. We were determined to finish the story and keep hopes of a recovery alive right up till the very end which I believe my Dad would be proud of. In the thick of things there were days where we barely pulled through, and some of it warranted timely interventions. I remember how much certain people supported us throughout the period, even those who certainly didn't have to.
The essence of my story is simple. As difficult as life gets, I still believe the old saying that God doesn't allow a burden bestowed on us that's too much to bear. Each hard time is a test, and no matter how long it lasts, it ultimately passes.