"It takes patience you know, some days you feel like you are doing so great, some days you just wanna quit. You can't quit though" Alex fumbled with the various gadgets in his hands; a fork with loops for finger and thumb, a phone with a touch pad and voice recognition.
"It wasn't always this easy, it takes time. I was just like you, but you work at things. You practice, you figure it out. I drive you know, you can too. I bet you'll need to where you live." Alex, a mobile quad, two years post accident, now studies philosophy at University in New York and is headed to law school. He comes to the rehab building when he can, meeting with other patients and helping them to see that there is life beyond one's accident.
"You're doing well, I can tell. How long you gonna be here?" Alex offered his advice, his phone number and encouragement to Brian; something quite appreciated. Both Noreen and Emily continued asking questions; eager to learn how such progress is made.
"It's all about patience, one thing at a time." Perhaps the best advice for anyone.
So, the trio (Karissa included) has turned to a band of four, three generations of women and Brian. When Grandma and Aunt Nancy came to drop off Noreen this weekend the cheering squad made quite the appearence in therapy. After 14 minuted of holding himself upright on the rehab table (the previous record was 2 minutes) the therapist looked at the family and asked "Bri, where did this come from?" he smiled and replied that it must be having his family around him. Family. An important part of anyone's life. What a gift. Something to be thankful for.
This experience has been one of daily joys and discouragements. Of trials and accomplishments. Every day brings another experience, another lesson learned. Probably one particular learning event took place this weekend; crossing Madison Ave at lunch hour with a wheelchair. New York New York- the city that never sleeps or slows down. A place to quickly put into practice nimble manuvering skills and trust. However, Noreen has made it clear that they won't be taking a cross-street stroll at any near-future time.
Another daily joy is receiving mail and blog postings. Yesterday, while trying to type on the hospital's broken keyboard and having to give up eventually, a big envelope arrived from Colton-Pierrepont Central School (wow, it's been a while since I typed that word sequence!!) Thank you Mrs. Gowing and class for the beautifully decorated and written letters. We read all of them, wondering who each child was, how they knew Brian so well and came up with so many fun and encouraging birthday/get well cards. What a treat!! After we finished reading all of them, Emily looked at me;
"I don't remember if we ever did anything like that for anyone, did we? Wow, what a gift." I agreed that it was really cool to feel connected to our old alma mater and significant friends. I tell you, it is the highlight of the day to get on this websight and read messages from people we haven't heard from in years. What a treat! After 9 years of being away, it has been quite an experience for me (Katie) to return to the Northcounty and those friendships.
Emily and I talk often, emotions of gratefulness and unbelief at the circumstances bringing this period of time together in our lives. We are thankful. Thankful for the dawning day, thankful for encouragments, thankful for friends, family, hopes and even tears. Most of all, thankful for life. there is so much beauty here. Beauty in unusual things sometimes, but beauty none-the-less. Too much beauty to give up.
We decorated a "Thankful Tree" yesterday, Em, Bri, Noreen and I making leaves written on them things we were thankful for.
It is a gift to have hope for the future, and gratefulness for the past. It seems to make the burden lighter when we can name our sightings of grace each day. It's so easy to live life in a tunnel, just seeing a dark hole with no ending, but when we can open our eyes and be grateful for the moments, the moments become bearable.
And when we look back at the whole of it all, we see a great tapesty, woven by threads of thankfulness, some dark, some light; all part of something beautiful.
