Yesterday my surgeon informed me that when he said a full 3
months he meant a full 3 months. Can’t blame a girl for asking, right? The
shoulder surgery will be 5 weeks post-op this Thursday, Thanksgiving Day. This
means another 7 weeks without wheeling myself, driving, full transfers…this
also means no gift wrapping, weight training, using my spiffy, still in the box
racer chair!!!!! Uggg….
As if I’ve needed some more, this has been another humbling life
experience. I have had to be tended too/ watched over/babysat and while it is
uncomfortable, okay humbling to be 50 years old and have the neighborhood
ladies sit with me for 3 hour intervals, I have come to know these women from a
new perspective. I’ve been blessed to sit in my living room, simply sit, and
really have meaningful conversation with women who live down the street, around
the corner, on the next block. We have laughed and cried and dreamed together. (Yup,
a lot to share about sharing with your neighbors, about remembering what it is
to really get to know them, to have real, spontaneous conversation, but it’ll
have to wait.)
My sweet guy, Mick, sat through this surgery with me. He has
sat through the other 2 surgeries I’ve had this year including the 19 ½ hour
surgery I had in June, followed by not missing a day visiting me while I stayed
6 weeks in-patient rehab. The recent surgery on my shoulder has left with the
use of 1 limb, my right arm. Until I could learn how to transfer myself with
one arm from the wheelchair to the toilet, shower, bed, he had to lift and set
me onto the toilet, shower, bed. He continues to have to lift me in and out of
the car. Actually, he has come to lift me, carry me far more than this.
Mick dropped me off early at my friend Vicki’s house
yesterday; she was my babysitter. Before the light of day, she was awake to
greet us at the door, the 2 of them lifting my chair up steps into her home. She
had coffee brewing, together we sat quietly visiting as the sun and her busy
household rose. I felt blessed to witness as she got her family ready for
Monday morning. Then, remembering how exhausting the morning rush can be
getting kids and husband out the door, Vicki lifted me in and out of her car loading
and unloading my wheelchair, to take me to my doctor appointment. (I sure have
much to say about my sweet guy as well as my dear soul sister but, again, that’ll
come later.)
In a panic to get the Thanksgiving dinner shopping done, my son
Garth and his friend Krysta went to the grocery store for me. Following the
list to the tee, okay so we ended up with an extra box of Holiday Captain
Crunch and Oreo cookies, these 2 happily completed the task at hand. Garth also
rose to the occasion while I was in the hospital for 6 weeks. While he didn’t
see a need to scoop the cat’s liter box, he did maintain our household quite
acceptably. During this time he also prepared, submitted, and received his
missionary call. On January 30th, he’ll be leaving for 2 years to
Colombia. (You bettcha; I have much to write about this event too.) If you know
anything about LDS Missionaries, you know they are always in a companionship of
2.
~~~
Recently I came upon a quote by Ram Dass, “We are just
walking each other home.”
In the midst of all that is going on, I am, again, learning
to walk, this time without any knee except for mechanical ones. The challenge
is great, as great as the pain. (Again, more to share but later.) In the
process of all I’m going through, contracted hips, abdomen, use of and balance
with one arm, major bad back sway, recent additional amputation, my son
preparing to leave for 2 years…I’ve relied on Mick who has graciously,
uncomplaining, not even grunting while lifting me, assisted. Garth hasn’t
grunted nor has my sweet friend Vicki while lifting me, how kind is that while
I feel like a blob of marshmallow cream mixed with jello jigglers on the wheel
chair I can’t yet wheel. Neighbors and friends who have come to sit with me
were also prepared to pick me up if I miss transferring from Jazzy to toilet. I
am pushed around, lifted, chauffeured, assisted, I have someone clean my house,
do my grocery shopping, there is much I’ve had to just let go of, not do,
breathed through knowing all is well, all is as it should be, learning “We are
just walking each other home.”
There are times when we aren’t all walking, times when some
must be lifted and carried by the strength of those who walk along side us and times when, even if we wheel, we shall carry.
Garth will walk with a companion, door to door, sharing,
teaching, guiding others to a pathway home.
This life, this walk, is meant to be a partnership, a
team event, something so much more than we get hung up on, so much more than
the accumulation of stuff we think we can take home.
Several years ago I heard a neighbor yell from her from yard
out to her son, “Christopher, it’s time to come home!” From the moment we take our first
breath to the moment we exhale our last, we are walking home, someone, is
calling us home, and this I've come to know, we are not doing it or going it alone. May your journey home be filled with awareness, blessed,
grateful and gracious awareness for those who are calling, those who you are walking with or at times carrying
you or you carring them, simply an awareness of the walk home.
~~~
Explore the words here today. What things are you taking
home with you? Who are you walking home? Who is walking you home? Do you hear a
kind, loving, parental voice calling you?
