Don’t like cliche. Use a different word.
Thanksgiving Day, now the weekend, now December. Pretty so far, not scary, snow. Kind of regular days inside, cold there outside. But cause for thought.
Thankful works. Grateful works. Respectful works. No decide on “Friendsgiving.” (A little off. But I do have much appreciated friends, some for many decades and OK, be corny and call it what it is, a gift.)
My wonderful caring family. If everyone had like mine, how much healthier would we all be. You don’t choose where, when, how you’re born. But if you’re in luck, and I was born lucky, thank goodness for that kind of fortune.
My Dad, my Mom. Could not ask for a better place to grow up they made, paradise. I’ve drawn maps of our house and yards and gardens and ponds. (Peonies.) And my Dad supported me in all I wanted to do, beyond measure. And my Mom hand sewed my wedding suit and maternity dresses and quilts, still here, hope to be passed down, with provenance. (The quilts.) (Not the dated dresses.)
My brothers, stand up tall accomplished better than good men, and my sisters, also very accomplished, making a more generous and caring world, who have done so much for me spiritually, creatively (and practically). Really too many gifts to count.
Coming back to Illinois, met one of my Mother’s helpers who has been so patient and generous with me as well. From storage units to laundry and dishes and talk. With her own family and full time work on her calendar.
I’ve had a little bit of a tough year the broken knee probably mostly. I’m out of those whatever “stabilizers”. Yay. Stretching the knee right now. Stretch that knee. Yay. And walking so thank you Buddha and Jesus for walking. Every minute up standing, walking, cause for praise. The knee still snaps sometimes, kind of freaky, but the pain is going away.
The medical people. The care they took for me.
Nurses what even can I write. I did not like the hospital. No one likes the hospital. But those nurses (and no leaving out the CNAs) are the champs. Knowledge, first. But also consistent kindness, some conversation, and a little scolding when I needed it.
Surgeons who can fix a broken patella. Sew it together with wire and screws and stitch it up. Nothing I’ve ever learned compares and I’d never have the guts.
.Knee still a little sore but “stabilizer” gone. Yay. Big surgical scar that I can show off. Yay. Goodbye yoga mat hello chair or wall yoga. Approved to be back on treadmill and stationary bike, certainly lap pool. I’ve met people with two prosthetic legs who smiled every day. Perspective.
The physical and occupational therapists who helped me get my strength back. They knew what to do even when I didn’t. Didn’t make me put blocks in a box though. That was a no.
The ambulance drivers. Most are very nice, only a very few are crusty. I can’t imagine anyone liking being carried by ambulance and I sure didn’t. But I was losing literally gallons of blood, an infection…saw it dumped….and those guys got me where I needed to be. Hospital. It took a lot of antibiotics with their unwelcome side effects but now it seems over with. The nurses always told me to be patient because it will get better. And it has.
And the genius at Kirby Hospital who located bird feeders at every room window and the folks who kept those ones fed. I was there mostly in summer months so it was early morning sun, late evening sun, and birds outside the window early and late. Made hospital, not fun, a whole lot better.
Plus I could watch gymnastics and swimming and running and Seine because I was in hospital during Paris Olympics and what are you going to do if you’re in a hospital bed. Could not sleep. I’ve never had cable television at home, no need, but in hospital with that bed, clicker. The Paris Olympics gosh saved my spirit that hospital summer.
And again the nurses who knew what to do to make my situation a little more tolerable.
Having credible health insurance.
The Town Lake YMCA in Austin, walk across the park, where unhoused people actually could hang laundry, and the absolutely health breath environment at the YMCA in Champaign. Even give a book, take a book there. Can observe community there. And that lap pool, eight lanes, three stories windows. On winter days, how happy is being in a lap pool with those windows and then the dry sauna with just easy conversation with the people one meets that day hanging in our towels in the sauna.
The list of teachers and professors and good bosses and colleagues who have supported me. Best ideas, best conversation, lots and lots of good dinners. That’s a very long list. One colleague and long time friend assembled my bike and bookcases just being thoughtful and beyond my own skill set. Saved me at the hair salon on a fun not not so fun day. Best remark ever, though, got to laugh, still, in my journal.
OK. People who some I only very briefly knew.
In Austin I went through a break up but landed in my own apartment close to downtown, my minimalist taste, great street scene, skyline pool, whole bunch of friendly dogs and their humans in elevators.
I’d sold my car (loved that car).
So sometimes Lyft. Tip economy whole different post but Lyft drivers for now. I’d go on 20 minute rides and have really interesting conversations with people from so many places with stories that I savored hearing.
Oh, immigrants. Lyft drivers often. I do not like the immigrant hate. I really do not like the immigrant hate. Those Lyft drivers came here as real people with real families, just as my Grandfather did. And entirely possible to have a conversation and mutual respect.
Tip economy again. Got to do that thought more thought. In hospital meals (they try) back home, transitioning to on my own again, a little help from The Instacart. Not too much discussion usually except the retailers do not pay close to a decent wage. The drivers get no compensation for gas or wear on their personal vehicles. So generous tip a must.
Just from my Thanksgiving weekend scribbles. Had really really bad boss only once, a foot shorter than me, a little fat, balding. He actually had the gall to scold me for making roast beef and potatoes and vegetables for Thanksgiving. I said isn’t that my family’s choice, not yours. Made me put my Ph.D. credentials on everything which normally I do not even though in fact I have a very reputable earned Ph.D. Told me to “dress nice”. I’m almost six feet and about 125 with taste. Check my closet. That dude was weird. Rant over. It’s Thanksgiving weekend.
This Thanksgiving no cooking just prosciutto and provolone. A bag of Skinny Pop white cheddar. Perfectly OK. Read somewhere, Atlantic maybe, how so many people actually hate turkey. I no like turkey either.
I do have apples and cranberries and oranges. So Thanksgiving still.
Today my bills are paid and gosh is that not a deep breath of relief. So my privileged Thanksgiving with bills paid.
Hate the short winter days but lots of lights on and candles lit makes it better. Got a lot of scented candles as always. Sandalwood right now. Makes the long nights homier. And whatever word for grace knowing that spring will come.
Being in home.. Knee out of that contraption. I can bend it, need to stretch it, just with care. Let it stretch, give it a little time. My body is telling me how to get better, just be a little more patient then I normally am. The stretching gosh it feels so much like I will have my old life back if I’m careful and paying attention but takes calm just wait. No more falls. Do not want ambulance or hospital again. Ever.
Dayna Finet 