It's been a long road since late August.
Dad was discharged from yet another hospital
yesterday.
Another victory, for sure, but any hospital stay, no matter how
brief, means a bit of a setback where physical therapy is concerned.
If history
is an indicator, though, he'll bounce back again.
He's been a trooper.
After I left the hospital, something tugged on me to
drive farther west in Leesburg to thank the physical and occupational
therapists, who had been so successful in their work with him. They said they
had been looking for him since he was transported to the hospital several days
ago, and wondered what happened.
"I'm glad you came, one of them said.
"I've been looking for my friend! I'm glad he's alright."
I told them
that he would be continuing therapy in a new facility, and wasn't surprised at
all when they offered their continued help.
It was the kind of concern I'd
encountered with practically everyone who'd worked with him each day at every
Inova facility.
The therapists said how much they'd miss him, and the spirited
debates they'd have. "Bob worked so hard, and he was a sweetheart."
I shared some of the photos I'd been carrying around, that I'd taken during his therapy sessions; a record of their time, and a
testament to his slow, but remarkable recovery.
In one picture, my Dad was standing
tall at the parallel bars. His physical therapist had a big smile on her face.
Her pride in him always made him proud of himself. She would always say,
"You did it, Bob! You did the work! I'm just standing here!"
She
laughed at one of the photos that showed her from behind. "Oh! I see you
got my good side! I'm going to put this one up on my bulletin board! Look
at his face!"
We all smiled and nodded. It had been a good day seeing him
standing, after so many months of being in bed.
Before I left, one of them admonished me to take
care of myself. "Take a break. Get some rest. Recharge. You have to pay
attention to yourself, too, okay? Your father will be fine. He's a tough
guy."
As I was driving back, it occurred to me that the
therapist was among numerous people--friends, family, and strangers--who had
reminded me that I needed care, too.
As
I reached for the radio to listen to my favorite NPR station, I heard clearly,
"When the Lord is trying to lighten your load, let him."
I realized
in that moment that I didn't have to rush. There was no urgency.
There was no
crisis.
There were no forms to fill out; no questions to answer; no emergency;
nothing to fix, explain, or correct;
no decision to make;
nothing to clean,
deodorize or disinfect;
no drama;
no toxic people.
I could take my time.
Breathe.
Enjoy the scenery.
I moved to the right lane, and allowed everyone
else to whiz by.
I was hungry, so I drove to a fast food restaurant
and sat in the drive-thru line for a few minutes, then decided I could make a
better choice.
I drove to my daughter's house, where I've felt supported,
content, happy, and cared for.
I noticed my steps when I got out of the car.
I
looked up at the sky, grabbed my phone, pointed, and took a photo.
A calm came
over me that I can't explain. I realized I wasn't tired.
I wasn't dragging. I
wasn't huffing and puffing as I ascended the stairs.
I didn't even mind the
cold. When I got inside, I steamed some
broccoli--and laughed while I was doing it. I really did have a taste for Chick
Fil'A. What happened?
I sat down with my laptop to read email, and opened a
daily devotional from Marsha Burns called "Small Straws in a Soft
Wind".
I read:
"Prepare
yourself for not only a new beginning, but a new era. Let the past become a dim
memory as you move forward with renewed hope and expectation. You will rise to
new heights..."
I'm not the least bit superstitious, but I do have
faith. The words were so encouraging..."a new beginning"; "a new
era".
I liked the sound of that.
Sometimes moving forward simply requires a new way
of thinking, that in turn, fosters a new way of doing that still allows you to
serve
others, while still making time to renew yourself.
I enjoyed a delicious dinner courtesy of my
daughter, laughed at episodes of "Frazier", and even finished a
digital painting I'd put aside. I was so pleased with how it turned out, I
visited one of my favorite sites, Canvas People, and ordered a canvas.
I woke up feeling refreshed this morning. I'd almost
forgotten what it was like to sleep through the night without waking, and I've
done it quite often in the past month.
This morning's devotional was no less encouraging
than yesterday's:
"You mistakenly apply a sense of permanence to
your current circumstances. But, I tell you honestly that you are always in a
state of transition. Nothing in your physical, natural existence is
immutable.
Embrace change..."
Thanks Marsha Burns. I think I will...: )