When I was a young, single woman and pediatric nurse, I would bring my guitar into work on all the holidays I worked. I would go from room to room for any of the bed bound children and sing to and with them. My heart ached for the children not able to be home, especially Thanksgiving and Christmas. My heart aches for the little girl hoping to be home for the holidays and for the woman you are today, waiting hopeful and yet aching as you care for your husband right now.
He's still kicking today. I'm so thankful. If they release him home, it will be hard--his dialysis is 3x week. But I can't let him go to a rehab again. I love that you sang to the kids. I'm sure the Shriners tried to make it better--they just didn't expect a little twerp like me! Happy Holidays, Linda
You are so wonderfully candid and personal. We are also new to the liturgy (narthex is the funniest word to me) but find great comfort in it. I wish you peace and comfort.
Kelli, I'll probably never learn it all, but recently I became a lector. I just write what is in my heart. I wish you peace, love, joy this Advent. ~Linda
Your childhood story of waiting, of hopes being dashed, and surviving, pressing on, companions us through our own. Thank you for this Advent gift. We are here with you.
Yep. The waiting was the hardest part--maybe harder than trying to spin my story so the "normie" kids at school didn't think of me as a crip or a spaz. Don't know that I succeeded though. :-) Pressing On, Linda
This is beautiful, Linda. Saying a prayer for you and your husband.
P.S. I spent two months in hospital in the “big city” far away from my family when I had surgery for scoliosis. It was tough. I can’t imagine how much more difficult your experience was.
So many of my ward mates were in those body casts for back problems. I have scoliosis as well but lucky for me, I didn't get so curved that I needed surgery. I'll never forget the way these poor girls in body casts (with a bar between the legs) would slam against their high rails while trying to turn over. They lay on these carts with wheelchair wheels on the front to get to school. What fun! Also, yesterday my husband was transferred to a rehab to get his legs stronger so he can come home. Thank you so much for telling me your story--being alone in a strange place and having major surgery is no joke. Best of blessings, Linda
I am tired. But Brad is hanging in there. He's such a fighter. It's just moment by moment, really. One good way to live in the now, right? Blessed Advent to you, Linda
As you know all too well. Thinking of you as I'm on the edge of my seat wondering what will happen and when. A real nailbiter, this. Love and peace to you too, Linda
When I was a young, single woman and pediatric nurse, I would bring my guitar into work on all the holidays I worked. I would go from room to room for any of the bed bound children and sing to and with them. My heart ached for the children not able to be home, especially Thanksgiving and Christmas. My heart aches for the little girl hoping to be home for the holidays and for the woman you are today, waiting hopeful and yet aching as you care for your husband right now.
Nancy,
He's still kicking today. I'm so thankful. If they release him home, it will be hard--his dialysis is 3x week. But I can't let him go to a rehab again. I love that you sang to the kids. I'm sure the Shriners tried to make it better--they just didn't expect a little twerp like me! Happy Holidays, Linda
It's good to hear he's still kicking today. Blessings to you both.
You are so wonderfully candid and personal. We are also new to the liturgy (narthex is the funniest word to me) but find great comfort in it. I wish you peace and comfort.
Kelli, I'll probably never learn it all, but recently I became a lector. I just write what is in my heart. I wish you peace, love, joy this Advent. ~Linda
Made me cry. Thanks I needed release. I see that little light down the tunnel cracking thru too!
Oh Kira,
You cry for me OK? I am so thankful for friends like you. With love, Linda
Your childhood story of waiting, of hopes being dashed, and surviving, pressing on, companions us through our own. Thank you for this Advent gift. We are here with you.
Yep. The waiting was the hardest part--maybe harder than trying to spin my story so the "normie" kids at school didn't think of me as a crip or a spaz. Don't know that I succeeded though. :-) Pressing On, Linda
This is beautiful, Linda. Saying a prayer for you and your husband.
P.S. I spent two months in hospital in the “big city” far away from my family when I had surgery for scoliosis. It was tough. I can’t imagine how much more difficult your experience was.
Oh Linda,
So many of my ward mates were in those body casts for back problems. I have scoliosis as well but lucky for me, I didn't get so curved that I needed surgery. I'll never forget the way these poor girls in body casts (with a bar between the legs) would slam against their high rails while trying to turn over. They lay on these carts with wheelchair wheels on the front to get to school. What fun! Also, yesterday my husband was transferred to a rehab to get his legs stronger so he can come home. Thank you so much for telling me your story--being alone in a strange place and having major surgery is no joke. Best of blessings, Linda
You touch deep chords within me, and I am speechless. Thank you for opening your heart to us.
Hannah,
I am so glad. You are so compassionate. Brad is trying hard to get better. Keep praying. Love, Linda
Wow.
I felt so sad for your little 9 year old’s heart—that was crazy tough.
And Brad, hang in there! ❤️
Julie,
All that gave me a faith I can't shake. Also, Brad's still kicking! My Marine is a fighter. Thanks for your support. With Love, Linda
I'm heartbroken for you, Linda. Stay strong. Life can be brutal. xoxo
Susan,
I am tired. But Brad is hanging in there. He's such a fighter. It's just moment by moment, really. One good way to live in the now, right? Blessed Advent to you, Linda
Grief and gratitude can coexist - you are a lovely example much love to you and yours
Pam,
As you know all too well. Thinking of you as I'm on the edge of my seat wondering what will happen and when. A real nailbiter, this. Love and peace to you too, Linda