CAREGIVER DIARIES: BREATHE

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...: )