Saturday was one of the most precious days of my life.  My husband and I took our girls to the Bronx Zoo and spent the day together.  Perfect weather, loads of fun, and memories I'll cherish for life.

By around 8pm last night I recognized the symptoms.  I was getting a migraine headache and it was going to be a winner.  After 18 hours of fitful sleep and intense pain, here I am semi-conscious writing this blog. 

I am done asking why.

I laid on my sickbed for the first few hours wondering-- why did I get this headache?  Was it something I ate?  Too much stress?  Not enough sleep?  Too much sun?  Not enough water?

I have laid on sickbeds for 22 years wondering the same thing.  And yet, I find myself on the sickbed once again, and I suspect I will find myself there many times again before my life's end.

At the risk of sounding cliche, I never once asked why I had such a beautiful day with my family yesterday.  I just drank it in, appreciating every moment, wishing it would last a little longer.  If I'm not going to question why I was given such a gift, why should I question why I was given such pain?

Pain is a part of this life.  I have my theories, but I"m not sure why.  I don't think it really matters.  I think what I need to do is roll up my sleeves, and figure out how best to live my life through it.  And I know that there will come a day when it will all be gone.   I live for that day.