Appreciation vs. Taken For Granted

"We do not know the true value of our moments until they have undergone the test of memory." -Georges Duhamel, The Heart's Domain

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"If you can look back on your life with contentment, you have one of man's most precious gifts -- a selective memory." -Jim Fiebig

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Today, four years ago on December 8, 2005, was the last day of life as I knew it. The remembering of that day has surfaced over the last week more significantly than in the previous three years. Interesting to note.

I have found myself wondering if I appreciated that rather ordinary day, the fourth of five days of orientation for a new professional venture. Did I relish my ability to sit comfortably on the edge of the hotel room bed watching an early morning worship program with my roommate as I telephoned my youngest daughter before she left for school?

Did I appreciate being able to use both hands fully as I took notes that day and my ability to walk wherever I chose without consideration for accessibility? I wonder why the woman seated to my right used a cane to steady her tentative gait? I was curious then, but did not ask as I probably would now.

I remember that final walk across the parking lot with my roommate, discussing which car to drive to the restaurant for supper. Mine was closer and it was a little cool outside, so we chose to take my jeep. Minutes later, I was praying for a miracle to spare us from the crash and, thank goodness, my passenger was spared and able to go home to her family the next day. I was not so fortunate. I could not move my legs.

That was the beginning of this "after the accident" journey that is still in progress...a limbo land of unpredictable tomorrows. I know I took a lot for granted before being hurt. I just hope I was appreciative of the blessings that came so easily.

I'm blaming this brief trip into the past on our recent snow. Snow is rare in the South and the quiet wonder that comes with it triggers a multitude of good memories from life in the Midwest. No surprise that I should trip over this stumbling block as my mind became quiet enough to recall...

Stillness vs. Noise

"The first fall of snow is not only an event, it is a magical event. You go to bed in one kind of world and wake up in another quite different, and if this is not enchantment then where is it to be found?"

-J. B. (John Boynton) Priestle

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The first snow of the year, hopefully to be followed by more this winter. I love the way a white blanket of snow muffles sounds, allows us to hear the quiet. One of my friends commented that the snow makes us feel young again with memories of the past. She is right.

I remember racing my brothers and sisters to see who could leave the first tracks on newly fallen snow; scooping snow into a bowl (carefully avoiding "yellow" snow) from the middle of a drift to make snow ice cream; playing outside under layers of warm clothes making snow angels, snowmen, and throwing snowballs; climbing up to the top of a hill and sledding to the bottom or riding a piece of cardboard down because we grew tired of waiting for our turn; and running back into our warm house with red cheeks, numb toes, peeling off wet, cold clothes. We'd change into warm, dry clothes, beg to go back outside, just before the lure of a cup of hot cocoa with marshmallows beckoned us to stay inside for awhile.

Snow causes most people to slow down if for no other reason to stay safe, go to the grocery store for bread and milk, and, for some, to complain about the interruption of their plans for the day. Memories, indeed, and, if we take a moment to really listen, a reminder that all is right with the world.

Visible vs. Invisible

Seeing the unseen, remembering the forgotten, making the invisible visible...these are elements of insight, the unexpected jewels that sparkle and shine when brief moments of awareness uncover their existence. - CJS

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Two aha moments this week worth noting and remembering. I have a tendency to feel that I have not contributed and to hear accusations when they are voiced, both without questioning or taking the time to evaluate their validity.

On Thanksgiving Day, I apologized to my daughters for not being able to do more of the holiday preparations. This apology came as I observed them put our meal together with occasional instruction as requested on our traditional family recipes. My kitchen is too small for my wheelchair and the girls to be in it all at the same time. Also, I need help with many of the steps necessary for holiday meal preparations - reaching items on high shelves, lifting heavy items into and out of the oven, and so on.

As I thought about how I could have helped more, I remembered some of the forgotten things that I had done. I did all of the shopping for our meal and table preparations by myself. It took three trips over a two hour time period into and out of the store to buy all of the items we would need in quantities that I could manage by myself. This also included planning the meal and making certain that all of the necessary ingredients were purchased.

Additionally, I baked blueberry muffins while the girls slept in to send with them to my oldest daughter's home that morning. My grandchildren were leaving to spend the weekend with their dad and would not be with us for dinner. Their aunts wanted to see them before they left. I also made the cranberry sauce while the muffins were baking. Sure, I was not able to do as much of the cooking and manual preparation as in the past, but what I did contribute was crucial to the meal's success.

This thought process carried over in some strange way to an accusation that has been simmering in my subconscious awareness for the past eight years. Fall marks the anniversary time period of my request for a divorce and the accident on the following day caused by my husband that left him disabled. Accusations that I had no compassion were made when I made it clear that I would not be caring for him when he was discharged after his recovery.

I had always considered myself to be compassionate and believed that this was one of my character traits that led me to become a nurse. These accusations shook my self-concept markedly. As my mind wandered about this week with the idea of "seeing the unseen, remembering the forgotten, making the invisible visible", the upcoming anniversary of the car accident that left me a tetraplegic four years ago kept surfacing. Finally, I understood why.

As I realized that the car speeding toward mine was going to hit me, I took evasive action as quickly as possible to try to avoid the accident and not cause another crash that might injure my passenger and others. Of course, my actions were instantaneous and based on years of driving experience. They were also based on my character of compassion for and protection of others. I chose to not put others at risk of being injured over simply protecting myself.

I am compassionate, in spite of those self-serving comments from others that I internalized eight years ago. What a welcome touch of grace through insight...