Sunday Morning Ease
Every Sunday morning. With so much love and gratitude.
So. Are you wondering what it looks like to wait for your beloved to go in for his major heart surgery?
Let me tell you how that's going. It looks like he's thinking about how to make his home recovery as comfortable as possible. I'm falling in love with how Z is prepping his nest for coming home. His must need comfort items so far have included upgrading to a massive 50" flat screen tv mounted on the wall directly in front of his bed. And that bed? Oh that would be a brand new plush, pillow top cased electric bendable mattress bed powered by remote control. Because if you're going to recover from major heart surgery, and the doctor tells you that for the next couple of weeks you must only sleep on your back, you might as well try to make it as comfortable as you can afford to. This dude never spends money on himself. I'm really glad he has invested wisely in his aftercare and recovery.
It also looks like the surgeon calling you to postpone your surgery for two days because there is a person with a more critical case in front of you. You (actually I) then have to conjure up all the courage in the universe to be brave enough to trust the divine order of things and believe that everything is happening as it is supposed to.
And then there are the feels. Hope and gratitude are the biggest feelings I try to swim in because not everyone is so fortunate to receive a diagnosis and have a surgery to "fix" the problem. And then there is fear because heart surgery. In the midst of these extreme feelings are balance and trust ... two places I have landed in moments so fleeting I forget what they look like. But I know they are there, which helps tremendously.
I need a massage. I need a hug. I need a village. I need silence. My constant prayer is to stay out of ego, but man these are my basic needs right now.
I wonder who we will be after. His heart will have brand new passageways for blood to flow freely and he's supposed to physically feel better. I wonder how we will be and who we will become on the other side of this. After all of this unknown stuff, I will come to the end of another 7 year life cycle hitting my 42nd birthday. Who will I become then? I'm envisioning a blank canvas in front of myself . . . space to unravel every little bit for examination and reconstruction. Piece by piece.
And like the cards that I love to read every Sunday morning, everything in front of me is unmarked territory, The Wild Unknown. But this is the truth about every day I've ever lived . . . which reaffirms my faith in knowing I can get through anything.