Surviving Limbo

If there was ever a place I never wanted to visit its Limbo.  No calm sea or happy dancing there in Limbo, just a boring pause desperate for a breakthrough.  Yet, I found myself there these last few weeks.
I’ve reached the limit for healing my left knee.  I can do no more until I have the right knee replaced.  My surgical knee compensates and I walk lopsided.  Plus it hurts.  My therapist, the standup comic, throws up his hands and says:  “You are in Limb-O!”
I set the date for another surgery.  That’s when the rigmarole began.   I flunked my chest X-ray.  I took it again and got the same result.  I felt like an outcast.
“You are inoperable,” they said.
I visited one doctor and then another.  I completed an echocardiogram. 
I wondered if my primary physician would release me for my very close surgery date.  Fear set in that something was wrong with me yet I felt great.  I didn’t fit the suggested diagnosis.  Why can’t life be smooth?
How to survive Limbo Control freaks hate Limbo.  They map…

Holiday Reflections

The bathroom radio perched on my vanity table played uplifting Christian songs as I hunted in the drawer for my mascara.   I turned up the volume while I listened to a female calling in responding to the disc jockey's question; the course of my day changed with her message.
The question:  What are you thankful for?  The caller responded how she had been in an accident a few years ago.  She sustained head injuries and lost some memory. 
“I’m thankful for the accident.  I can’t remember the details of a hurtful time in my past so instead of rehearsing old wounds, I now spend more time praising God for saving my life.  I’m not bitter anymore.”
Her courage to admit that spoke volumes.  I imagine I’m one of many listeners who took inventory of my soul to make sure I get rid of all bitterness as the holiday season begins.  It is freeing to welcome the upcoming days to Christmas with a clean heart.
Each heart knows its own bitterness  and no one else can fully share its joy.   Proverbs 14:10


The Family Photo

My family’s coming for Thanksgiving!  Actually, we’ll gather before Thanksgiving Day for a long four-day weekend to make the holiday work for everybody.I’m excited!I’m gathering recipes, cleaning the guest room and shopping for the right turkey.

My daughters gave me an errand to do for them.  They booked a photographer and want a photo of our family.  They asked me to find an interesting background for it, preferably with red rocks.  I drove around and found a private spot just west of Sedona.  A little history of Sedona I like the story behind the town’s name.  Sedona Schnebly, young and newly married, moved to Arizona in the early 1900’s and settled in a tiny community known for its red rock formations.  Mr. Schnebly, a hard working farmer, transported his crops up the hill to Flagstaff.  The rocky road is still called Schnebly Hill Road today.  His wife, Sedona, served her community well.  Her hospitality became an oasis for those traveling through the area.  When the community grew,…


The row of bicycles at the Rec Center drew me in as I watched the cyclists pedaling fast to workout songs in their ears.  In front of their bikes a computer screen depicts a boardwalk scene along the ocean with pedestrians jutting out of the way as they speed by.It's a fun, pretense ride but not for me back in those days when I first joined the gym.

I remember in detail how I climbed on a bike and programmed my workout.  I didn’t realize the gentleman on my right was watching me.
“Are you okay?”   He asked.  “You look like you’re struggling.”
I could barely make a revolution with my stiff, arthritic knees but I wanted to join the pretend marathon.  I told that nice man that I better choose other toys in the playground until I get my knees fixed.   Then I headed over to the old people’s bike with the high seat and tiny pedals but at least I could ride it.
I told this story to my therapist after my release to go back to the Rec Center.  Even though I’ve only had one knee replaced, he go…

Scary Scars

A young trouble-lovin’ neighbor boy managed to scare me back in my preschool days.  My mom sent me to our neighbor’s house where Freddie hid in the shrubs and jumped out at me wearing his Frankenstein mask loaded with scars.  I screamed every time.  

I’ve had to forgive Freddie for harassing me when these memories pop up.  I’m sure he grew up to be a swell guy and if I could remember his last name I would look him up on social media and yell at him.

Those Scars! The scars on the mask looked real to me, a six year old timid girl.  What is it about scars that creep us out like that?
When I think of scars, I think of pain.  I don’t like to see people suffer. 
Scars are areas of fibrous tissue (fibrosis) that replace normal skin after injury. A scar results from the biological process of wound repair in the skin and other tissues of the body. Thus, scarring is a natural part of the healing process.     Wikipedia
My orthopedic surgeon is a petite female but as strong as her male peers in the f…

A Right Way to Get Up

I discovered there’s a right way to get back up once you’ve been down. I never thought about trying to get up from the floor with a fake knee and a severe arthritic knee on the other side.  It can be a problem weeks after surgery.  I needed a good plan.
The Story of My Life My physical therapist asked me how I get up when I’m on the floor.  I quickly replied:  “I never allow myself to get down on the floor.”
He ignored my smart answer and told me he would show me how to get down on the floor and gracefully get back up.
He spread the sheet from the exam table on the floor and drew a chair close and demonstrated slipping off the chair to the floor and then pulling up back up onto the chair.   I have strong arms so I followed his lead on the first try.
Sometimes in life we end up on our bottoms and we have to deal with it. 

“Now I feel better knowing you know how to get back up should you find yourself on the floor,” he said.

There’s a Lesson in That Session
It would be foolish of me to think …

Unwritten Songs

Annie’s Song competed with the noise of sizzling bacon on the stove while my husband blended the ingredients for his famous blueberry waffles at the kitchen island.  I hung a big birthday banner in the dining room and anchored streamers to flow from the ceiling as a centerpiece over the table.
You fill up my senses like a night in the forest…the familiar old song played in the background on the kitchen radio.
The morning sunshine beamed through the windows as I set my dining room table for yet another special family gathering, Sookie’s birthday brunch.  Our granddaughter turned nine.  Last Saturday, her dad planned a busy, fun day.  He included us and I couldn’t wait for them to arrive.  I wouldn’t be able to go ice skating up in the mountain with the rest of the family but having a special breakfast together and opening presents gave me something to look forward to all week long!   
Papa Tom and I reminisced while we prepared the party food that morning and chatted about the oldie radio…