Confessions of a Transplant: Home

Below is a draft that I never posted, I wrote in December 2011. Now that half this year, 2012, has come and gone I will post it now. A reminder of what I want and need for myself this year.  I liken it to be the New Years resolution to be resolute and not out of focus, or forgotten.


When I started this year I had only one goal-hope-wish: to get through the year without having surgery. It’s not so much the surgery but the cost and the recovery. It’s the recovery that takes so much time and leaves scars. A year ago today I had my left shoulder repaired.  Ouch. PT. Home exercise. . . work that led to a most joyful moment in late October.

When I was in Boston, I held my grandson over my head and tossed him in the air. And caught him. And he laughed and I laughed and my mind burst with stars and fireworks: YES!  When I was doing the work to get to that place, I didn’t know that was the goal, to have that physical strength and as I did it, my body remembered how I’d do the same thing to my son as a baby.

This was my year to take time to figure out some things. It was like all the times I was supposed to take time for myself added up over the years and left me with time. Time on your hands can feel like a burden.  I am used to earning a living and doing other work.  This year was my unofficial sabbatical.

Now I will add that all the focus on ‘not’ last year just ended up with me. Same me. . .body and soul. So this year started with poetry in Mexico (hard work, new friends, returning friends) and then joining a choir, to sing. Entering a roomful of strangers is not easy for me now. But I did it. And it’s been so good for me, the community of voices. Monday night I made a promise to go swimming at Barton Springs. . .at night it’s free, close to home and while I go alone, I am with kindred spirits. I love the younger people jumping in, that flomp sound of the diving board, all the kinds of bodies. I went. I did it. Me and this body I live in in the cold, cold water. My husband and I see a great councilor/therapist/shaman. . .so we can look forward together, let go of old crap that can accumulate like dust bunnies under the bed. And on Mother’s Day I was with my son and his wife, my only daughter, her parents. After lunch and a romp outside with the 18 month old, joy of joys, he sat in my lap, curled around me, exhausted. I have some health issues that will be checked in September but I am happy in this life I have.  I’d forgotten happy in that year of ‘not’.

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