Endurance through loss

After a week of navigating through new waters which include my mother's stroke and stay on ICU, and the final disposition of the unit at work, to be moved across town, not to mention the equally important but side note themes of dad, the bros, and my own maintenance, I have time to check in with myself.

I have tried to run through it, but mixed results; a few decent days, yesterday a really tough run which for the first time in recent memory had me lightheaded, and needing to stop every mile or so. I'm eating. I'm sleeping (and dreaming like crazy).
I'm staying in close touch with everyone. But underneath it all is the growing awareness that everything in the landscape has changed again, and the markers I had used to help me find the way have been moved or taken away.

When I watch her try to form her words around thoughts which have become loosened and knock around like renegade children, or purse her mouth refusing to eat, or scrunch her face up in sudden shock over pain or discomfort I know what she means when somewhere down deep she considers the alternative. I know what my dad means too when he says it's too overwhelming. Where do we find the endurance to cope with loss??
How do we sustain who we are while undergoing the process of change? It's one thing to add onto; add strength, mileage, capacity or speed. It's another to sustain while realizing you are not longer on your feet- at all. No longer connected to them, controlling them, directing your thoughts about them.

I may not run today. I did yoga this morning and found it restful and calming. Working on the core, increasing flexibility. I may be tanking out on mileage this week, and moving somewhat inward, but I am trusting my greater self to carry me body and soul throughout. We are in it for the long haul. And not one of us can get there alone.