Squawk Radio
Sunday, June 12, 2005
Teresa Gives Thanks for a Lazy Sunday Afternoon
The day started out like any other Saturday. My husband and I were supposed to go to Metropolis, Illinois to participate in a 31-mile bike ride to celebrate SUPERMAN DAY. Metropolis is an hour and a half from where we live and when the alarm went off at 5 a.m. , I remember groaning and thinking, "Please, Lord, let it be raining because I want to sleep some more!" My husband went down and checked www.weather.com only to discover that it WAS raining in Metropolis. So I got to stay in bed and look forward to a lazy Saturday at home--something I hadn't enjoyed in several weeks.
We made a couple of jokes about our "boring" day. Around noon, since it wasn't raining at home, we decided to take a "consolation" bike ride. We'd barely gotten a half mile from the house when we went around a corner we'd taken a thousand times. The next thing I knew, my husband was lying on the pavement, writhing in agony. His bike had simply slipped out from under him on the turn. That quickly, in the blink of an eye, everything changed.
Instead of enjoying a "boring" afternoon curled up on the couch with some wonderful book, we spent the afternoon at the emergency room. My husband was admitted to the hospital with possible knee ligament damage and another internal injury. I kept thinking, "Oh, why didn't I get out of bed? Why didn't we just go on to Metropolis and risk the rain!" All I could think was that I'd give anything for the two of us to be at home with him watching baseball and me lying in the sunroom reading a book, enjoying a spectacularly normal afternoon together before ordering a pizza for dinner. Suddenly every small, ridiculous detail of our mundane lives seemed infinitely precious--a gift to be cherished, not taken for granted or dismissed as dull.
The doctors sent Mike home today on crutches with instructions to schedule a follow-up if the knee doesn't show signs of appropriate healing. We're so grateful he didn't suffer even more devastating injuries, but we still don't know exactly what we're facing. He's a very athletic person and we don't know how long it will be before he can do his regular exercises, or ride his bike, or help with the volleyball clinics he had scheduled with a friend.
The whole thing just reminded me of how quickly life can change and that every time we drive past a hospital and someone we love isn't there, we are infinitely blessed. There are so many days when I spend more time mourning what I've lost then being thankful for what I have.
This isn't one of those days.
We made a couple of jokes about our "boring" day. Around noon, since it wasn't raining at home, we decided to take a "consolation" bike ride. We'd barely gotten a half mile from the house when we went around a corner we'd taken a thousand times. The next thing I knew, my husband was lying on the pavement, writhing in agony. His bike had simply slipped out from under him on the turn. That quickly, in the blink of an eye, everything changed.
Instead of enjoying a "boring" afternoon curled up on the couch with some wonderful book, we spent the afternoon at the emergency room. My husband was admitted to the hospital with possible knee ligament damage and another internal injury. I kept thinking, "Oh, why didn't I get out of bed? Why didn't we just go on to Metropolis and risk the rain!" All I could think was that I'd give anything for the two of us to be at home with him watching baseball and me lying in the sunroom reading a book, enjoying a spectacularly normal afternoon together before ordering a pizza for dinner. Suddenly every small, ridiculous detail of our mundane lives seemed infinitely precious--a gift to be cherished, not taken for granted or dismissed as dull.
The doctors sent Mike home today on crutches with instructions to schedule a follow-up if the knee doesn't show signs of appropriate healing. We're so grateful he didn't suffer even more devastating injuries, but we still don't know exactly what we're facing. He's a very athletic person and we don't know how long it will be before he can do his regular exercises, or ride his bike, or help with the volleyball clinics he had scheduled with a friend.
The whole thing just reminded me of how quickly life can change and that every time we drive past a hospital and someone we love isn't there, we are infinitely blessed. There are so many days when I spend more time mourning what I've lost then being thankful for what I have.
This isn't one of those days.
Teresa Medeiros, 4:35 PM
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