Always losing something...

The doctor said I would know.

Coming in from the driveway, a tremendous jolt pierced me like a workman’s drill. The surge began from the left hip, then hit my entire body, leaving me breathless. A fog engulfed me as the surroundings faded. I wondered. Could this must be what the good doc meant? Yes, it was time for a hip replacement.

I was scared. Like a kitty shivering on a tree limb. Why so much worry? Because even with the pain—or what is now called discomfort—I understood the shade under the tree…not sitting on a high branch.

Staying on the ground was just fine…thank-you.

The pain worsened...I yielded to the surgeon’s knife. Then came recouping on the couch with library books followed by baby laps around the house. But one day I happily threw open the screen door open and shoved my toe out.

"Hey, world. I’m back!" Not quite the same as I once was, but far better than what I had become. Now, I am a new me.

The other day two tree guys came to clear out the jungle that had strangled the backyard. After hours of chainsaw racket, the lawn was back. Pleased with their results, I ran out to thank them. Smiling, they stepped from their truck and began an interesting chat. One of the fellows asked what kind of work I did. Then, he answered his own question with another. “Are you a teacher?”

“Yes, I have taught. However, mostly I work as a counselor.”

“Oh. Does that mean you shrink heads?”

I laughed and rubbed my forehead. He certainly was bold to to ask me. “Well, it has been stated that way…but therapy is more like expanding possibilities.”

“And who comes to see you? What is their reason and do they get better?"

Pausing, I took in the barrage of questions. “Individuals of all ages with a variety of difficulties come to my office. But the main reason is loss. They have lost control of a situation or themselves and are very uncomfortable. They want to make their world right again.”

“And do they get their world back?”

“Yes, they can. But often not the same as it was. Generally the loss creates the need for change which means hard work. So their lives become different, perhaps even better. For instance, loss of a job may require additional education and training: upset in marriage could mean learning better ways to communicate."

For a long moment the worker stared at the ground.

“Let me share an example. A while ago, a woman came to see me and she wept through most of the sessions. Her trusty companion, a handsome, intuitive dog had died suddenly. A few weeks later, her older sister died as well. Grief sat on her shoulders and pushed hard. Sitting with a box of tissues, intense sadness shook her. Weeks and months went by. Finally a thin stream of light broke through. And became stronger. She eventually was able to set new goals for herself. Months later she volunteered at a senior center and worked in an animal shelter. She was even able to take home another wonderful dog. Her life was good again."

"I deal with loss as well. Many years have gone by and my first hip replacement is sputtering like an old engine in a vintage car. My fingers have been dialing the doctor for replacement parts. Hopefully with an improved hip, I will be able to walk another million miles."

Again, the tree guy was silent. Then he asked for a dozen of my business cards.

As said by poet Donald Miller,

“All the trees are losing their leaves, and not one of them is worried.”

I still do. But I am getting better.

… “and that’s how I live it.”