harrumph!

Well.  I finally went to Target today, after more than three months.  It was a lot of walking, and my new knee didn't love it.  It only buckled twice, and I didn't fall, but it takes the confidence away.  I was walking pushing the cart, aka holding on for dear life.  No, I can stand without holding on to anything, and take a step or two, but I was leaning on the cart.  Anyway.  It's a long way around the outside of Target, I didn't go down too many aisles.  I bought one pair of sweatpants marked down to nine dollars, a bra for Miss Char, a phone case for one of the girls, a bag of mozzarella and parmesan cheese.  That's it.  

I took the girls to Chik-fil-a, through the drive through, then to Aldi.  They ran in, I was out of steam.  On the way home, I vented my frustrations a bit:  I didn't do as well as I had hoped I would.  It was tiring, and I didn't trust my surgical leg.  I went all out, said I feel like a failure, and like I'm not doing enough.  Well.  They straightened me out, thankfully.  When I stop to count my blessings, I know I'm doing better.  I can walk with a cane.  It's not great, and I'm not going long distances, but I can do it.  I can walk up and down stairs, if there is a railing and I have the cane.  I can go on the stair stepper and on the exercise bike. and can squat down much better than I could pre surgery, although my "old' knee protests.  I'm sleeping better, and I'm not having too much pain.  Not too long ago, I thought these things would never happen.  So it is better. 

When I think about the weeks on the walker, when I was totally dependent on Paul, Cheryl was also walking with a walker and totally dependent on Bill.  She never fully recovered her strength after her first fall in September, so we were on our walkers at around the same time.  We had some laughs about how it is to have to ask for help, and to be thankful to them when you don't always feel thankful, because no one does things the way you would do it.  There were conversations about not being able to take even one step without those contraptions, we were kind of in the same boat.  I knew deep inside that it was much different, because it didn't seem very hopeful that she would get stronger, and that made me feel really bad.   She was a very good example in not complaining about things too.  :)

This was also the first time I put my Levi's on in over three months!

Miss Cam and Miss Char...

I wrote that yesterday, and this fine morning:  I had my morning coffee after using the little peddler a bit, then got on the exercise bike and loosened up, then on with the sneakers and down the stairs to the stair stepper.  I made myself stay on for five AND A HALF minutes!  That extra 30 seconds, well, it's not so pleasant.  But progress, right?

Then, I moseyed on up for a second cup of coffee...and here I am.  Molly is coming for a little visit with Denzel, and Kathryn might come over with Achilles, Rhys, Jamie, and Ellis.  Char just left for college, in the snow, and Cam is doing work at her desk in her room.  

Last night, I had a wicked call-my-sister moment.  I had things to tell her, still subconsciously racking them up!  I used to have a time in the afternoon that I though of as call Cheryl 0'clock.  She had a terrible sleep schedule, she couldn't sleep at night, and got her few hours in the morning, but at two or so, it would be a good time to call her.  We didn't talk every day, but dang it, every day around that time I thought of it, of calling her, or she would call me...sometimes I would have the kids here or be in a store, she would sometimes be busy too...we would usually text first, "Are you home?"  

They say you live and learn, and my goodness, if we lived until we were like 300, we would have so much wisdom.  It's useless to have regrets when someone dies, but of course those thoughts sneak in:  that last time we were together, why didn't I go talk to her sooner, stay longer?  Why didn't I visit her more?  The last few months she was really doing poorly, I was not so mobile yet, so I don't think I could have done much more, but...you know.  Now it seems like a whirlwind, the times we had together.  We know life is short, and people don't live forever, but we don't REALLY know it.  

When she first told me that her cancer was back, and we knew it was terminal, I refused to think about it.  Because how could I live without her?  The first time she got really sick in September, she came back...she was not back to strength physically, but she was fully herself mentally, and was as funny and lively as ever, yet more serious about being thankful for everything.  So I think this past time she was hospitalized, in January, I thought we had more time with her...she would get better, and we would talk, and she would have more time.  

I kind of knew this wasn't really the case.  I saw her pallor, and hands shaking and her weakness, in December at one of our Christmas celebrations.  I didn't want to know, but I knew.  She had no appetite, and felt awful, yet she was still so happy to be with her friends and family.  Then she got sick again, and confused, and her clarity never returned, 100%...I thought it would.  I didn't know that my last conversation at the end of December would be our last real conversation.

I'm okay, but I'm not okay.  I cry at the drop of a pin, and yet, I am full of thankfulness.  God has been so good and merciful, and the promises we have cannot be compared to the sufferings we endure.  But I miss her immensely.  I have not even processed this part yet, this life that goes on without her...it does make me want to just be good to my kids and grandkids and to Paul and not let any bitterness seep in, to keep my thoughts pure, and be faithful in the hidden, to use my time in a good way, and be an example.  

Sorry!  I didn't mean to write a downer.  She wouldn't want us to be sad!  Oh, knock it off!, she'd say!  Don't waste tissues, those are expensive!   

You all have a very nice Tuesday, and thank you for being my friends.  :).