LESSONS FROM A 2″ by 4″

It was a cold, dark New Year’s day.  The end of another holiday season. I took the tree down a few days ago, and stashed all the decorations away in the attic. I was ready for life to rev up and begin again.  Over the years I’d come to feel that Christmas was just another dull holiday that had lost its meaning amidst our human need for more, more, more.

It was way back when personal computers were just beginning to flood the market. My kids were playing on the “Trash-80,” we’d picked up as a family Christmas gift at Radio Shack. I wasn’t taken with this new Thing that would soon begin consuming our lives. Yet I sat behind Mark and Lisa watching them giggle and shout as they took each other out in whatever silly game they were playing.  It was fun watching for a while, but I was tired and ready to get away from such nonsense. 

I had just proclaimed that New Year’s Day was the most boring day of the year when I looked up and out the window into the pasture just beyond our driveway. Our dogs, Chippy and Mildred, were fighting and looking as though they were trying to kill each other.

I popped out of my chair and ran outside to break them up.  As I sprinted down the driveway I could hear and see the seriousness of what was happening, Both dogs were snarling and beginning to draw a bit of blood.  I picked up speed, forgetting that there was a cattle guard between us.

Before I could stop myself, I landed with my right leg caught between two of the steel bars of the guard. I heard a snap as I went down, and began shouting for help. The dogs immediately stopped fighting and Bill came to my rescue. He carried me to the car when I told him I thought my leg was broken.  

 I spent the next  few days having a pity party all by myself, going through the list of why this was the most unfair thing that had ever happened to me. I would spend the next four months recuperating, as both my tibia and fibula healed.

I didn’t know that those months would be a time of learning or that sometimes the universe interrupts our insane, shake-a-leg world so that we can learn the importance of slowing down and enjoying life.  I’d been rushing around in a workaholic kind of way, raising two kids, teaching natural dying and spinning, cooking, cleaning, and going to bed each night totally exhausted.

 Then a few friends came to visit, bringing books, flowers, and chocolates. I began to rethink my situation.  I couldn’t rush around experiencing overwhelm because I had too many things to do and not enough time to do them. I’d forgotten about the simple things in life that we all need in order to live happily. 

Reading good books took over my time. I remembered being a ravenous reader when I was a kid, but since then books and reading had taken a back seat to being a wife, mother, teacher, and housekeeper.  I missed the feel of holding a book, turning its pages, and the flow of words that so often had filled my heart. 

 I started to keep a journal.  Along with my leg bones, I wanted to heal my thinking and the anger I was carrying around with me. I’ve kept a journal ever since. It’s a place where I explore my thoughts and feelings, and eventually led me to write and publish my instruction book on Australian Locker Hooking, and then to my memoir, Scattering Ashes. 

I learned that slowing down and being mindful was the best medicine for any kind of healing, whether it be physical or mental.  The Universe had whacked me over the head with a 2” by 4”, reminding me that I was on a downhill course and out of control. 

Since then that merciless piece of lumber has been following me around, and when I see it approaching out of the corner of my eye, I hastily slam on my brakes.   

Over the past two years pain began developing in my shoulders, especially the right one.  My husband has been diagnosed with Mild Cognitive Impairment, which means he might or might not develop dementia. Uncertainty has become the watchword of our lives.

As a result, we decided to downsize and find a place where we might be more comfortable and less responsible for things like shoveling snow, keeping the garden looking as beautiful as it was, and mowing the grass. The move took a lot out of us, but for the time being at least, we’re happy and comfortable where we are and continue to explore our options as our bodies and minds continue to age.  

After having the rotator cuff in my right shoulder surgically repaired in mid January, I spent six weeks in a sling unable to do much other than sit and relax. It has now been put away on a high shelf in my closet. I still  must take it easy, using my right arm very carefully and have about six more weeks until I’m able to drive.

I’m once again reminded of the most important and simple things in my life. I’m using this time as a retreat as I nourish my  body and mind. That in itself will help me to be a good caretaker for my husband of fifty-three years should it become necessary. It is also inspiring me to be think creatively. I continue writing, reading, making art, and simply enjoying life.

We all live in a world filled with uncertainty. Take care of yourself.  Give yourself time and love all of the little things that make you happy. If we’re not careful that 2″ by 4″ could be headed your way!