It was a tough weekend. Right about bedtime Saturday night, I was hanging up a blouse that is actually a costume piece from Bobbi's last show - and in true Stephanie style, I managed to discover a small sharp staple in the label of the blouse. This was accomplished by skewering my pinky finger with said staple in such a way that it scraped up the side of the finger, sank into the flesh (not just skin) and unsuccessfully tried to poke its way out the pad in the center of the finger.
The staple was positioned perfectly to keep me from maneuvering my hand enough to actually see how it was lodged in there, which resulted in further imbedding it in the flesh as I twisted and turned my arm, trying to see what the devil was impaling my pinky, while the weight of the blouse (and the hanger) drove it ever deeper into my finger. When the bleeding started to get in the way, I bellowed for Julio (it panicked me when I tried to pull it out and it wouldn't give). He managed to get hold of the little corner sticking out from the blech and gave it a hearty yank, successfully dislodging the staple and calming his wife. Talk about the splinter from hell.
So I spent the next hour or so soaking my finger in hydrogen peroxide, an old trick I learned many years ago when I was accidentally bitten by Wally the dolphin (I know it was an accident, because if he had intended to bite me, I wouldn't have had a finger left, and the H2O2 trick wouldn't have been much help). Now I get to add "tetanus shot" to my to-do list. I suppose I'd better get to the doctor soon before God's "hints" get even less subtle!
But I digress. None of that was the reason for our rough weekend. (If it made the weekend rough every time I did something stupid, we'd never have a good one.)
The following morning when Mom and Dad met us at church, they delivered the heartbreaking news that Mom's cousin Tom had passed away 4 hours earlier that day.
Tom had been in an uphill struggle to recover his quality of life after a series of health setbacks, and the last few weeks made it clear that the battle was not to be won this time, but it is never easy to accept the loss of such a dear man. He has a wonderful wife, and two awesome children who have the best spouses one could wish for. The loss was made doubly tragic in that one of those spouses lost her brother only days earlier, so they have to coordinate two funerals in two distant states, within days of one another. Two funerals that came much too early in the timelines of the lives cut short.
What words of comfort or condolence can you offer at times like this? There is solace in the fact that he is no longer hurting, no longer frustrated at his physical limitations when he was always an active and outgoing person; but that's not the thing to say to a grieving daughter, son, or wife. Besides which, they are the first to acknowledge those small favors themselves. Tom's family is very strong in their faith, and you don't need to talk with any of them for long to realize that they will persevere. It's just so humbling to bear witness to this journey, knowing that it is theirs to travel and we can only be there with our love and support. Somehow that seems so inadequate.
I think about how frustrated I've been with all my minor little "wellness issue" irritations, which seem to add up faster than I can fit a doctor or dentist appointment into my schedule, and I find them even more aggravating when I put them into perspective like this. It is hard to pay such things the attention they require, when they seem so trivial by comparison.
But I guess as I juggle my schedule, get my shots, get my false teeth, and soak my digits in peroxide, I'll look at these moments as opportunities to recognize my blessings and realize how fortunate I am to have good health right at my fingertips... at least for nine of my fingers.
And more than that, I will remember to cherish every moment I am able to share with my loved ones. There can never be enough of them.
The staple was positioned perfectly to keep me from maneuvering my hand enough to actually see how it was lodged in there, which resulted in further imbedding it in the flesh as I twisted and turned my arm, trying to see what the devil was impaling my pinky, while the weight of the blouse (and the hanger) drove it ever deeper into my finger. When the bleeding started to get in the way, I bellowed for Julio (it panicked me when I tried to pull it out and it wouldn't give). He managed to get hold of the little corner sticking out from the blech and gave it a hearty yank, successfully dislodging the staple and calming his wife. Talk about the splinter from hell.
So I spent the next hour or so soaking my finger in hydrogen peroxide, an old trick I learned many years ago when I was accidentally bitten by Wally the dolphin (I know it was an accident, because if he had intended to bite me, I wouldn't have had a finger left, and the H2O2 trick wouldn't have been much help). Now I get to add "tetanus shot" to my to-do list. I suppose I'd better get to the doctor soon before God's "hints" get even less subtle!
But I digress. None of that was the reason for our rough weekend. (If it made the weekend rough every time I did something stupid, we'd never have a good one.)
The following morning when Mom and Dad met us at church, they delivered the heartbreaking news that Mom's cousin Tom had passed away 4 hours earlier that day.
Tom had been in an uphill struggle to recover his quality of life after a series of health setbacks, and the last few weeks made it clear that the battle was not to be won this time, but it is never easy to accept the loss of such a dear man. He has a wonderful wife, and two awesome children who have the best spouses one could wish for. The loss was made doubly tragic in that one of those spouses lost her brother only days earlier, so they have to coordinate two funerals in two distant states, within days of one another. Two funerals that came much too early in the timelines of the lives cut short.
What words of comfort or condolence can you offer at times like this? There is solace in the fact that he is no longer hurting, no longer frustrated at his physical limitations when he was always an active and outgoing person; but that's not the thing to say to a grieving daughter, son, or wife. Besides which, they are the first to acknowledge those small favors themselves. Tom's family is very strong in their faith, and you don't need to talk with any of them for long to realize that they will persevere. It's just so humbling to bear witness to this journey, knowing that it is theirs to travel and we can only be there with our love and support. Somehow that seems so inadequate.
I think about how frustrated I've been with all my minor little "wellness issue" irritations, which seem to add up faster than I can fit a doctor or dentist appointment into my schedule, and I find them even more aggravating when I put them into perspective like this. It is hard to pay such things the attention they require, when they seem so trivial by comparison.
But I guess as I juggle my schedule, get my shots, get my false teeth, and soak my digits in peroxide, I'll look at these moments as opportunities to recognize my blessings and realize how fortunate I am to have good health right at my fingertips... at least for nine of my fingers.
And more than that, I will remember to cherish every moment I am able to share with my loved ones. There can never be enough of them.
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