Hello, dear friends -

This morning as I drank my coffee and scrolled through the news and friends’ facebook posts, I felt inclined to reach out.  I have prayed, meditated and leaned into the love from others more in 2020 than I have in my entire life. 

You all know how much my life changed after Sarah’s accident.  Emily and I spent the hour’s drive to the hospital worrying about all of the possibilities - would Sarah be alive? If she was alive, would she have brain damage, be paralyzed….?? In my head, I came up with how I would respond to each possibility.  The false sense of control did not really give us any peace. There was always another worry, another possibility to think about. 

When Emily or I dared to speak aloud our fears, the other one responded by reminders that we don’t know what lies ahead and that, regardless, we would be ok.  The entire drive was spent that way; I reassured Emily while internally panicking and then she reassured me while internally panicking. It will all be ok, we told each other.  We will be ok.

From there, things moved at a dizzying pace..  When were they going to do the surgery? When could she be moved closer to home?  When would Sarah open her eyes and start interacting with us? Would she really be ok?  My energy was being depleted and I was physically sick from worrying what was going to happen.  There were so many unknowns, so many possibilities.  

The morning I felt so physically sick I was unable to help Sarah in any way, it hit me. What IF Sarah was NOT going to be ok?  Would I want to look back and remember that I spent my precious time with her worrying about things that would never happen??

This became my mantra:  Be here. Be in the present moment.  Breathe.  

And, it helped.  A lot. I was able to find solace in just being present.  It allowed me to focus my love on Sarah in front of me, not on my fears. Present Sarah, not future Sarah.  I was able to let go of the idea that I had any kind of control over what the future holds.  

There were days I had to make decisions about things in the future, but most days I physically and emotionally stayed right in that hospital room with Sarah.  There was so much healing: Sarah’s body, my spirit.

Early every morning, 3 or 4am, I’d walk from the Ronald McDonald House to the hospital to relieve my sister at Sarah’s bedside.   It was dark, of course, but the birds were always singing. A sign of life, light, creation despite the cold darkness of pre-dawn January. 

It is a time of great fear and great love. Each day more than the last.   I pray each of you feels more love than fear. I also pray that you can all stay focused on the present moment.  The birds are singing. The sun is shining. No matter what happens, we have each other. We have today. What more do we really need?  Really. Seriously. What more do we need?

Sarah continues to heal.  Her pain is well managed and she can get around quite well using crutches or a walker.  She has enjoyed being able to sit outside, go for drives, and spending more (unexpected) time with Emily and her friends.  Her next follow up appointment is in early April. She will likely be cleared to start bearing a little weight on her left leg.  There is a chance she may need a future surgery but we won’t know until she starts walking. The surgeon optimistically said she should be able to return to work in June if all goes well.