Two days ago, David and I had an appointment at an office. We didn’t want to be there. The purpose was painful, and we felt gloomy.
As David stared through the big office window, I saw his face change. I turned to look. On the ground just outside, a smallish squirrel gripped a twig, flourishing it in both paws as he hopped and kicked like an animated character in a Disney Kung Fu movie. Then he dropped the twig, darted a few feet away, and picked up a larger stick. The extra weight overbalanced him. Tipping over backwards, still clutching the stick, he rolled down the small slope and out of sight.
I still laugh when I think about it, and my heart lightens. We deliberately watch for moments like this. They’re the best therapy.
When you go through one hard thing, you’re stronger for the next one.
Years ago, David and I were playing The Ungame with our friends Gene and Marilyn when I landed on a square that commanded, “If you were impatient today, take a trip to Impatient Island.” Since the square was on the far side of the board and the writing was upside down, Marilyn read it out for me. She got as far as, “If you were impatient today–”
“Augh!” I exclaimed (impatiently), snatching up my marker (impatiently) and plunking it down (impatiently) on Impatient Island.
Patience has never been my virtue.
Since David’s accident, though, impatience is gradually leaching out of my life. It has to. We move slowly, and I wait a lot. Today in the parking lot at work, as I waited for David to move from the car to his wheelchair, I heard an unfamiliar birdsong. Finally, I spotted the source and recognized it as an oriole. His orange breast glowed in the morning sun, and his song climbed toward the sky like praise for the glory of the spring day.
Just think. I would have missed this beauty entirely if I hadn’t been waiting (patiently).