As i wrote that title, I realized that all the things I could list, that I have done, are indeed, Therapy. I have had to do the unpardonable, and that is send my thank you notes by Email which would have my mom spinning in her grave. But the oddest thing....all my injuries are on the left side yet my right hand is producing horrible hand writing....or was my handwriting this bad forever?
Lin is often asking me to find out things to learn from this incapacity. I try. But there are just so darn many.
I have an incredible husband who has had to do everything for me for 7 weeks now and the future doesn't seem about to change too quickly. And he's acting like he's grateful to do this. I think it's good he does have to go to the mill as well as do church work. It gives him a breather. But he's been wonderful. I am still hoping I don't die first so he's left alone to take care of everything without any instruction called out from the bed.
I have incredible friends. Pam comes up every day...but is most helpful as Robert's been on the afternoon turn. She turns on a family room light for him, lets Niko OUT, locks me in, gets me more ice water, shares whatever neighborhood gossip there is. Daphne brings up the bulldogs for Niko to romp with and then since she's a PT, she has made me playdoh and given me exercises to begin with my hand before my actual therapy begins. Sandra walks by and stops in to chat...even brought me a DVD to watch on the portable DVD player that Teri loaned me. Tamara the same. We've been brought in dinners 2x/week by assignments and others by promptings of the spirit. And goodies. And cards. Rebecca came back on Sunday to help me by cutting out some of the things I needed cutting...and stayed to chat and just be a friend...altho my 'friend' has to move and she will be sorely missed. She and her husband. Yesterday Teri and Diane came by to get me started sewing. I'm sewing for my 5 girls' birthdays in 2010 and Cara's birthday comes up right after January begins...then I have til Aug to complete the other 4...and by then, my hand ought to be better. So Teri and Diane ironed on the fusing, or pinned, or instructed...all the while giggling and telling silly events. Diane actually didn't even sew for herself...she just came to help me. But Teri brought along both her machine and her serger and got a little start on her own gifts...and they stayed for hours...And did you know there's a specific term for people who drive a certain way and are from Massachusetts? I do now.
And all the while I've tried to keep up on the looming teachers'/classified unions' strike. I have hated the canned phone message I got from the teachers' union and reported it since I'm on the do not call list. I even wrote to the board of education as well as the teacher involved and got replies. The one teacher who claimed he was not the voice on the machine tried his hardest to be as nasty as he could be, but all the while, sounding as smooth and as slick as a Youngstown Mobster....and he will no longer be considered anymore more than a wolf in sheep's clothing. I did hear from another teacher that it seemed that the bargaining went on until 1:30am this morning and there might be a package the team is willing to take back for a vote. Unions? Are they really as needed today as they first were when they were formed? Not in my book...isn't that what Lawyers are for today? just a joke there...
I've learned to be patient. I've learned how loving and kind people are. I've seen how insensitive people are to other people. I've learned that if you say you are going to do something then you darn better do it. I've recognized people who want to control everything yet have no background in why things are done the way they are. I have seen change in people ... people who can't yet get up the nerve to correct a wrong but are trying. I have learned that people actually do not use the actual sewing pattern...they make copies of it and then use the copy. I never would have thought to do that. I just use the pattern....but OH BOY! no more! I love my new sewing machine now that it's in the dining room and I can get to it in order to play and learn and sew. I've learned how NOT to be and how to BECOME.
And suddenly, a poem I learned from my mom as I was leaving for college, that I used once for a floor devotional, and one that I still remember but haven't thought of for years...still applies.
There once was an owl
Who lived in an oak.
The more he saw
The less he spoke.
The less he spoke
The more he heard.
Why can't we be
Like that wise old bird?