As Only Your Mama Can July
7, 2014
Since my
surgery on June 20th, I have come to appreciate the garage door of our home in
a new way….
My children
do not have keys to our home; rather, they use a keypad to let themselves in
and out and thus, our garage door gets a serious work-out most days.
It is a nice door, heavy, solid and
substantial with faux wood-grain brownish stain which perfectly matches the
outdoor brick of our home. It has a new
set of springs due to being overworked, likely caused by its abundant use.
I never gave
much thought to our garage door until I came home post-surgery and it became
the "gate-keeper" of my family's comings and goings.
As I lie on
our couch or sit in my "mama chair", I can hear the pregnant noise
the garage door makes as it labors to open and close at the request of my three
children….and, even of my husband who does have a key.
What once
was an annoying interruption to my days and nights, has now become a comfort as
it plays gate-watchman for my children's activities.
Like a
symphony, the deep hum that I hear is music to my ears and it is this mother's
"patient" delight to try to guess who will come through the door to
greet me…
Living at a
snail's pace has become my lot in life these past three weeks, and sadly, may
become my lot for another four or five.
I confess to a serious sorrow upon learning that the "boo boo"
during my recent surgery will likely require a starting over with a second
repair surgery and more time for recovery….
And, I ask
myself daily….
Why?
But, the
real question is
Why not?
I am not a
cancer patient struggling through chemo nor am I a young girl being held
hostage in a foreign country. I am not
the leader of the US with a burden to grow in character nor am I a child in
Mexico who is struggling to survive against a sea of troubles.
Perspective
really is everything.
It's
tempting to feel sorry for myself…this sitting all day with little
movement. This injury from surgery which
means a new surgery, new specialized surgeon and ever burdening financial set
back.
But, I don't
because what I realize as I sit inside my well-cooled home on my nice leather
couch or my precious "Mama chair", is that I have all to be grateful
for…
My parents
are healthy, my siblings do well, my nieces and nephews are growing and
blossoming. My friends have gold hearts
and my employers are faithfully patient.
There is a car sitting ready for me to drive if needs must and a load of
books and Bible studies to occupy my mind.
My mind is
free to think
The alone
time I have enables me to rest
The quiet in
my home is a gift to my soul
And, the
evidences of love toward me from family and friends lays about our home in the
form of food in our fridge, calls to my phone, flowers on our tables and cards
on our mantle.
I am loved
And, that is
all which matters…..
I am not
good at being on the receiving end of another's blessings
But, I am
learning to be…
I am not
gracious when feeling down and lean toward self-preservation
But, I am
learning to open my door to those who would share their kindness with me
Even in
recovery….
Even when
that recovery is required twice..
There are
lessons to be learned
Lessons such
as appreciating the small blessings in life….the use of one's senses to take
fully into myself love poured out on me and my family…
Lessons such
as being gracious in receiving
And, in
growing a peaceful heart in the waiting
And, in
enjoying the faithful groaning of our garage door which signals the arrival of
one of my precious ones….coming in from the outside world, happily hollering,
"Mama, are you there?"
Yes, this recuperation
time…..although not perfect…..
It is a
blessing….
And, I have
grown to love that door….and to appreciate those bodies that come and go
through it keeping pace with life and touching base with me…
And, to
think, at one time, I had asked Ian if it could be oiled so as not to make such
noise…
Noise I now
value because I have a new perspective….
Blessings,
Lesa
