By Eileen Spatz
It’s Christmas Eve, the day when we joyfully anticipate the celebration of the birth of our Savior. This year, Christmas Eve has an unusual but sweet additional layer, being that it's the one-month mark since falling and fracturing my patella. So here I sit, leg propped up on a big pillow, listening to Christmas music and feeling overcome with gratitude and love.
As the saying goes, sometimes we need to be knocked down in order to force our gaze upward. As one of those independent and self-sufficient Type A personalities, I am not at all accustomed to relying on others. It goes against my grain! But guess what important insight I have gained over this past month? I am needy! I have humbly come to realize just how needy a person can become when a serious injury (or illness) suddenly knocks you on your rear end.
This experience, an adventure that I am only four weeks into with a 6-12 month recovery timeline, has highlighted some not so flattering traits about myself, such as:
· I am not as tough as I thought I was
· I am not very good at this noble suffering stuff
· I am very easily frustrated
· I have sunken into despair often this month
· I have a propensity for self-pity
Thankfully, there is a trait that I have managed to greatly improve upon. Where I have always been stubbornly resistant to asking for help, I am now learning to graciously accept it. For me, this is huge.
On a daily basis, I am the recipient of some form of beautiful gesture or gift that always, always brings me to tears. I find I am easily overcome with emotion realizing how much love actually exists in mankind. And not just mankind! I have found myself standing in front of the Crucifix regularly thanking Jesus for sending His loving angels with provisions and supplies and food and even financial gifts to get me through this trial. God will provide!
I must admit this setback has been pretty dang difficult to manage while living alone (with the added responsibility of taking care of a hound dog). I have no option but to push myself to the max just to accomplish the smallest of tasks. The dog needs out? Oh geez, okay… I start the lengthy process of getting myself out of bed and into an upright position, then hobbling along on my walker to slowly get to the door to let him out. Shuffle back to bed. With the help of a leg lifter and scooting effort and pillow fluffing, I am back in the horizontal position – only to have Morgan scratch at the door to be let back in. UGH!
I thank God every single day for the loving help of my daughter, Chelsea, who has come over to assist me daily for almost four weeks. My younger daughter, Sammi, who lives in California, provides continual encouragement and smiles through texts and phone calls. My local neighbors and friends have been an amazing source of support by running an array of errands, taking the trash cans to the curb, and grabbing the mail for me. Friends bring me lunch or dinner and keep me company for hours. My heart overfloweth with love and gratitude.
And now, about the tree. This year, I had come to accept that I wouldn’t be able to have a Christmas tree. All my ten bins of Christmas décor were stored away in a hodgepodge manner in the eaves of my attic, so I couldn’t bear to have my daughter and son-in-law try to locate the one bin with the tree ornaments.
Meanwhile, my daughter noticed that every time they came over to visit me, I would burst into tears. Every single time. I was very, very depressed that first week after surgery, not to mention in a lot of pain. So, one day, out of concern for my mental health, she and my grandkids surprised me with a darling little Christmas tree, and then went about decorating it with some bulbs they picked up at Walmart.
I was beside myself with joy seeing this little tree, and this sweet act of love instantly turned my whole mood around. But my daughter wasn’t pleased with the end result, and reached out to my friends and relatives asking if they could contribute an ornament to the tree. I had no idea that she had done this and thought it odd when I started receiving little parcels with tree ornaments. Eventually, a friend told me that Chelsea had made this request. Please view the video to see the final result:
All this to say that George Bailey was absolutely right: It really is a wonderful life when we realize just how much love there is all around us. Sometimes it takes a calamity to truly realize how blessed we really are. Merry Christmas, everybody!
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