Unfortunately, it quickly
became apparent that hikes with new bifocals can be treacherous.... the steps
got me. Michael walked back to the
campsite and brought the van to retrieve me. I settled in with ibuprofen and
ice, while the kids continued their hike and he ran a couple of errands in
preparation to moving.
I had a bit of
crying jag and realized it is because I so desperately want to make a zillion
fun, family memories in face of Michael's recent "transition
diagnosis." Then I realized - this
is our LIFE. If we miss this hiking trail, or this evening of s'mores - there
will be plenty more. We are not camping.
"This is our life. We are not camping." There is an awful lot in that statement, isn't there?
ReplyDeleteI hope your ankle is better very soon.
I learned, having haD progressives for over 10 yrs, to always bend my head down to look through the distance part of the lens going down stairs and almost always use a handrail.
ReplyDeleteHope the ankle recovers quickly
LOVE your statement "we're not camping"..... perfect. Bet you will understand the feelings of any and all those who make such living arrangements as you... down the road.
ReplyDeletepraying for healing on all fronts AND for your ministries up coming. l/p mom t.
Bend your head, point your nose where you want to look. I'm learning all sorts of new tricks!
ReplyDeleteThanks for the prayers, Mom.