“The goal is no falling,” I state to my friend who had just helped get my arms into my coat. She replied with a confident nod and thumbs-up…then we made our way to the garage stairs. It was a cold evening and we were going to Beans-n-Cream for hot drinks, sign language practice and a game of Chinese Checkers. I must have given some good game tactics in my explanation of how to play, because she beat me n her first-ever game by three paces; and I spilled my caramel steamer all over my new special selected, elastic waist line, petite jeans from JC Penny. But we laughed when I said, ‘No falling!” And I didn’t. And it was a wonderful evening with a friend.
I have no memory prior that evening of where the phrase, “No falling,” my have appeared, but since then, it has become almost (if not more) my slogan…new motto. I still say, “Good grief”–I may never part with that one; I only say, “Epic fail!” when there is hilarious bad timing in events; and said, “Ludicrous,” in very angry tones the other morning, because it was taking me almost ten minutes just to put on my socks and shoes. It is such an exercise and my hands were not cooperating. I was in my room sitting on my black chair and didn’t think anyone heard me and kept trying. Mom peeked her head in shortly after that and offered to help; I leaned back in the chair and took a deep breath. Then stood, balanced myself with the walker and started the day.
It is not that in my saying “No falling,” under the gasping breath, actually saves me…but it brings more reassuring thoughts rather than sheer panic. I am finding that when starting to get unbalanced, most of the time, it is the sensing of falling backward. I am not a fan of thus…maybe even more-so now that my vision on the right denies me to see far back over my shoulder. I can’t point fingers entirely at my vision, because there is more to the art of using a walker. With my hands now so lost of grip sensation, I grab on tighter or lose grip completely which throws off the balance and I tip side-ways. This happened the other evening and as I was saying, “No falling,” I have never seen Dad jump up from his chair so quickly. Of course, he commented on my slipper selection choice. I wore better ones today.
Sunday at church, I had finished reading the sermon notes and scripture passages; there is no interpreter at my parent’s church, so I started reading some favorite verses in the Book of Psalms, before continuing my reads in Deuteronomy. Psalm 3:3 came to mind–it became my verse in college days:
But you, O LORD, are a shield about me, my glory, and the lifter of my head.
I should have remembered this verse yesterday, when everything in my body screamed at me…where by evening, even lifting my head or trying to stand with better posture almost hurt to breathe from the pressure I felt in my spine. After a fun day out with Mom and Marcia, I sat on my black chair, stroked Muffy on the head and said, “Maybe it was a mistake. What do you think?” (as if he could answer…) But in that pain, I forgot to fall back on the promises of God. That He shares that pain and He is strong enough to lift my head. And He does. My evening ended in laughs and hugs. And this morning, I woke to a new day, even before the sun was shining. It has been full of purpose, anticipation, achy hands and spine, “No falling” episodes, and the reminder of just how truly blessed I really am.