A Gift of Daffodils, 2012
After a Morning Visit to the ER, 2012
I've been looking at the world through new eyes these past few days. First there was shock, and then pain. A little blood, followed by the fear of needing help, not being able to wing this one on my own. After a visit to the emergency room and confirmation that I want to do everything possible to minimize my time in hospitals, I'm okay. I'm still me, just me with a temporary limp and the beginnings of a new scar.
I have been lucky in this life, and when I compare it to the challenges so many have experienced, it has been a walk in the park. But, still, within the context of my life, the only one I truly know, the last few days have been hard. I continue to review the accident and the what if aspects of it. It could have easily been worse.
People look at me differently as I walk slowly, with this quiet limp. They look at me with half smiles, but not for too long, they don't want to stare. I believe they see me as a softer and more fragile person, weaker than the me they might have seen just a few days ago. Perhaps I am.
Looking at those who are slowed down due to one thing or another and admiring their ability to push through, and get out there, and live their lives--this is not new to me. I am not one to take my health for granted, but even the smallest of injuries have a way of shifting your view, allowing you to see first hand what other people have felt. It is a different sort of empathy.
Today I simply want to record how happy I am to have this little home, my husband, the ability to sit here and write, soothed by Norah Jones, and the ability to walk, albeit slowly, for now.