Yesterday, a friend inquired about my knee health. It was so dog gone nice of her to ask about me. Her pure goodness in asking made me happy. Her kind spirit and thoughtful manner had me spilling the latest. Not too many grumbles, just bits of this and that. I bike four miles a day and walk our dog daily. I got to dance at our son’s wedding. I get to play on the floor with grandgirlies. So things are for the most part great. Oh, I have my “sofa” days now and then. Those are the days that I spend mostly on the sofa, cross stitching and reading with my leg elevated. I still have some nerve damage that gives me a run for my money sometimes. Overall, I would say 38 years ago this month, I had the first of my 5 knee surgeries and I am a walking miracle!
I used to decorate my cane as a teenager. I used to adorn those canes with ribbons and tape and sharpies. I matched my cane for proms and dances. I used team colors. Once as a young adult, I tossed around the idea of starting a company called “kick sticks” with crazy designed canes with gem stones (now called bling) and feathers and colored tape (now called Washi tape) that you could put on and remove and re-decorate when the mood struck. Of course I decorated my cane and sometimes crutches for the holidays and special occasions. One time I used tape to “create” a candy cane for Christmas time. As I type, there is a folded up cane in our car that has flowers and swirls and more flowers decorating it, just in case I need it. I have not needed it in a long, happy time.
Her kind words swirled around me for much of the day yesterday, then spilled into this morning. As I put some lovely, natural, orange lotion on my hands earlier, I noticed something was missing. For as long as I can remember I have had a callous on the heel of my hand. I have needed a cane, sometimes crutches and even a horrid walker for so long, that I had just grown used to having the callous as part of who I was. How is your knee, she asked? I guess so good in fact, I haven’t used a cane in 16 months and my hands are soft as a dish soap commercial.
Somehow on the journey of getting well, it gently slipped by me that I am a miracle.
That is Grace I will gladly bathe in and be oh so grateful for.