Thursday, April 26


Dear Body,
I critique you harshly and curse you when you have pain.  Each scar, each incision not fretted over... just added to the others.  But there is change in the air.  Compassion from me for what you have been through... and for the first time, some respect too.

Dear Prescription Medicine,
We never get along.  I can not predict if you will help or hinder.  The balancing act that semi-worked in the past does not hold true now.  My body does not want even the most mild of outside help, it sure does not appreciate this bombardment.  I will be so relieved to no longer see each of you lined up on my nightstand.  And yet, I can not turn my back completely on the 'little gratitude thoughts' that make me shudder to think where I would be with out you at this time. 

Dear Old Oscillating Fan,
I borrowed you from my mom's shed.  You have been a blessing of 'white noise' to my family.  I can turn you on and sleep till my hearts content, and my family can carry on just outside my door as normal.  When I am awake... you must be silent... I want to hear the hustle and bustle, laughter, the sound of kids outside... but oh how I appreciate your hum when it is time to rest.  Thank you.

Dear Home,
There is no.where.else I'd rather be.  I can not start to heal until I am here.  I know exactly how many steps there are from my bed to the family room couch.  I know how to pile up the bed pillows to get the exact 45 degree angle needed to sleep.  I know the sounds that the stairs make as Savannah and Christian quietly come down them in the early hours of the morning for Seminary.  I love the squeak that the master bedroom door makes when Ty wants to peak in on me to see if I am OK.  Home.

Dear High Expectations,
I thought I had you neatly put away in a box marked 'unrealistic'.  Did I not tell you...and  myself... that you were NOT to be apart of this process?!  What I am able to do... is enough.  What does not get done... will get done eventually... or maybe not.  Because until 'I' can get you under control, how am I to then go counsel my sweetheart that he too... must let some things go right now.  You plague us both, I fear.

Dear Lists,
I have delegated my grocery list, menu list, kids need to be 'here' at this 'time' list, appointment list, school list, and all additional lists to others at this time.  I would be lying if I said I do not miss you... cause I do.  I love making the weekly/daily lists.  Checking off the little boxes.  I look forward to your return... but for now...
My only list is 'to do',  and it reads much differently than usual:
DO take necessary medications on schedule, blah, ugh, puke.
DO drink even more water than you already normally do, splash, slosh, tinkle.
DO fall asleep the very second that your body tells you to, or else you will surely regret it because one step past sleepy is extreme nausea, whimper, pout, tears.
DO read as many books and magazines as you want because this sweet luxury has never been possible for you in the past when on medications, blessing, lifesaver, sanity saver.
DO allow your amazing husband to hold you, kiss you, and wipe your tears, simple, sweet, contentment.
DO picture yourself, pain-free, healed, a couple months from now... but only if in doing so you can promise to not push, rush, or invalidate the time that is needed NOW to heal properly, patience, peace of mind, mandatory!


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