Pss. 63:8 “My soul followeth hard after thee: thy right hand upholdeth me.”
It’s Hard…
As you know I haven’t written in awhile and many of my friends might be wondering how I’m doing. A meme on Facebook wishing you a good day doesn’t tell you, a meme exclaiming all is right with the world is not a picture in my window that all is well and a meme certainly can’t carry the pain I have on a daily basis.
I’ve stopped complaining about the cold, wind and snow that left the trees bare right up until this week when we did a leap into summer, no spring, right into summer. We were in the thirties and forties two weeks ago, then bam the eighties. That is not a complaint by any means but it kind of throws you into the unpreparedness of the seasons.
All I have in my wardrobe is turtlenecks and fuzzy socks and they don’t bode well for eighty-degree heat. I have pants that don’t fit, shirts that drape me, and pains that won’t leave me. At one hundred pounds even my size six jeans is too big so now I don’t even have shorts for the summer. I have tennis shoes and sandals but I prefer wearing clothes as to not scare anyone from looking at this skeleton of a body.
I’m slowly changing up my protocol, I’ve gone gluten-free so I can eat food, but nothing seems to be working these days, and I think my PH is so wonkey, that it is keeping me in the disabled column. The extremely cold horrendous snowy winter was not a friend to my illness in any way.
Then there is the grass that finally turned green and with days on end of clouds and some rain, the grass began rapidly springing up like a time-lapse show of growth. Then there was the thought of mowing; that was my summertime pleasure. I knew in this condition, my summer would be spent in the house and no pushing the lawn mower from one row of overgrown grass to the next. I more than likely would just be sitting at the window watching it grow as the world outside the window went on around me.
Yes, I do have a husband and a son who are more than capable of mowing but my son works about forty-five hours a week and my husband’s schedule has changed to five days a week. Granted he only works five hours a day but no one feels like coming home, after being on your feet for hours on end, to mow the lawn now, do they?
I had been asking for a riding mower for the nine years that we’ve lived here but it was just not feasible on a part-time salary and only one person working. It was on my bucket list of things to do before I die, own a riding mower. Yeah, that’s sad, mowing makes me that happy.
When we first moved here the owner had a really nice riding mower and I took care of all three properties for four hours a day. Each week a new set of growth sprung up keeping me happy and busy until the belt broke, and the owner never got the machine fixed. He didn’t care; he’s a millionaire and doesn’t have to look at the three-foot-high grass. Hubby’s mom gave us an old faithful rusted up push mower that lasted until a few years ago when it finally went kaput! Even then we’d thought of a riding mower but illnesses kept it out of the budget. A newer push mower was affordable, somewhat.
Now this year I’m faced with an illness that should’ve kept the option of a riding mower out of the equation but I can smell my husband’s fear. It's hard; he’s trying so hard to be supportive and he even tried giving up sugar and cigarettes for me but fear won out. Not everyone is as strong as I am and I totally understand where he is coming from. I think everyone has some small measure of fear in the back of their minds that this just isn’t going to work. No one has DARED voiced those sentiments but instinctively I sense the emotions.
On Thursday, the third of May, he let me know he was stopping by Walmart for a hitch for his truck (I thought he already had one). I assumed the hitch was for a trailer so he could take his mother a bench he made for her for Mother’s Day. When he got home and I prodded him for information he announced he needed to find a trailer for a riding lawn mower he was purchasing. I cried. Tears of joy leaked down my cheek and a faucet full of tears came streaming down.
I told him, “Don’t you dare tease me!” He assured me he wasn’t. I asked if he could get it delivered and he announced that they wanted $250 for delivery. He called around asking if anyone had a trailer, his brothers' trailer had bad tires. I was calling around asking to borrow money but to no avail, maybe the rider wasn’t in the cards.
Friday morning came and when the small trailer his brother-in-law had was just that, too small, he decided to go rent one. Not realizing how cheap the rental was, after a lot of running around from store to store, he finally arrived at Walmart to pick up the floor model riding lawn mower to deliver to my waiting heart.
When he pulled up with the mower I couldn’t stop the tears. I was visualizing the many hours of enjoyment on the mower and how my husband went above and beyond to see me happy even by going in debt to own this machine that was now lighting my face with tears of happiness.
After about twenty minutes of the how-to’s, I was well on my way to mowing my lawn! He took the trailer back and left me alone with my new friend, Murray the mower; not a John Deere, or a Craftsman but Murray was MINE, all mine!!!!
When he returned home half of my lawn was already mowed. It’s a big lawn and I had to save myself some to cut the next day. I parked the mower right outside my window so I could wake the next day and see that it all wasn’t just a dream.
While walking and maneuvering might be hard this summer, mowing my lawn will NOT be a problem for any of us. Life is hard all around, not just for me, for everyone. My petty annoyances are nothing to what some other people have to go through. I am blessed to be alive, I cherish every moment I get, and I’m most thankful for a husband who loves me more than the sun shines, the earth spins and flowers bloom! (But no, not more than pork chops)
Be blessed and be grateful! God created it and it was good!
