Lost my dad exactly a year ago.. I remember the way it happened and what the room smelled like to the point of when he fell and died in my arms. Even when I tried CPR to resuscitate him to no avail. Today, I miss him tremendously. At the same token, I am coming to the end of fifth week of recovering from a broken ankle at the fibula.
This injury occurred when I was out on a routine morning jog. Sadly, there is no glory or great story to how this happened; rather the opposite. All it took was I stepped on a walnut in it's natural raw form (with the green layer on the outside) and stepped wrong and then lost my balance and fell. It didn't feel right, and I felt it right away. I remained optimistic and told myself, 'it's okay, it's a bad sprain. but maybe there's a chance I can walk/ hobble it off.'
There was no luck there this time! With each hobble i took, the pain grew more and more intense and I was about a mile away from home. Given that it's 5 am and I don't carry my cell phone with me when I run, I sucked it up and hobbled all the way back home.
This has been a long journey, although just 5 weeks so far, and am fully aware that I am not even half way through.. as there are hurt ligaments, damaged nerves, and even a blood clot. The things I have learnt of patience and methods to cope with frustration and work related stress.. meditation, deep breaths. Because at the end of the day, without health we are really just at a loss. More importantly, the loss of healthy mobility, I am just barely understanding the pain my father endured.
WIth that, I am grateful for the health I am given, the wisdom to keep up with it, and the love that he gave during his life time.
Life is here now!
Here is the space where I will share about my passion and life.