Some days you just have to look around and thank your lucky stars.
And once you start, it's hard to stop.
It seems people all around me are experiencing illness, grief or pain at the moment.
I feel that I couldn't possibly cook, gift or help enough for even half of them right now.
The saying goes 'walk a mile in my shoes'.
I have two friends enduring long term hospitalisation as I type.
Thanks, but no thanks.
One, has experienced a very fragile third pregnancy and has been in a hospital bed for the past ten weeks or so. This amazing woman is more organised, efficient and hardworking than I could aspire to being - so I take my hat (and anything else) off to her for her un-be-lieve-able patience. Months in a small room with literally no fresh air for most of this year, not seeing her husband for more than fleeting visits and never being alone with her two and three year old children. I think that may just be my definition of living hell. (Remember, I am the pathetic chick who posted about being carless for one day this week.)
Actually, no. Another poor woman is vying for contention in the 'my idea of hell on Earth' competition.
My neighbour has broken both of her ankles in a number of places. She is currently doped up in a shared hospital room with one of those hideous metal cages through and around one leg. She faces a couple of weeks of waiting for the swelling to go down before medical staff can operate on both ankles. She may be home in a month or so - but be in a wheelchair for some weeks after that and rehabilitating for even longer. She has three busy, school aged children, a very active dog - and one exhausted husband right about now. (Remember, I am the pathetic chick who's only leg related drama is deciding whether to run when pregnant or not.)
As callous as it sounds, the truth is that this week I am beyond grateful that I am not living in either of these womens' shoes (or lack thereof, as the case may be).
I'm aware that both of these friends are in temporary situations. Horribly inconvenient circumstances that they will eventually recover from. Others are not so lucky.
I'm grateful for the freedom, mobility and lifestyle of convenience that I enjoy - and quite often take for granted.
Counting these blessings with Maxabella's 52 Weeks of Grateful.