I was in a hurry, bounding down some stairs. I missed a step and SPLAT.
Four days later, surgery to put the bones back into place — plates, pins, the whole nine yards. Of course, this did not happen at a good time. Oh, and it was my writing hand. Great.
I couldn’t pick up a pen. But I could type with one finger of the other hand.
I couldn’t button shirt. But I had pullovers.
It hurt like hell. But I had medication and insurance.
My arm was useless. But it wasn’t blown off or chopped off.
In fact, this injury has been a constant reminder to be thankful and hopeful.
So, YET AGAIN, more reasons to let people know, one card at a time. Thank someone in the military for serving on your behalf. Thank someone who does something as simple as opens a door for you. Thank whomever makes you a meal, or makes a meal possible. And then do something, anything, for someone else.
That’ how HOPE happens.