Promises B
B is for book entry.
I am honored to clean the children's areas of The Vine Church every Saturday. I dressed to clean it today... but it isn't Saturday. By the time I left the house I knew that, but, of course, it was too late to do anything about it. The cleaning did not take place. I checked in with the children's workers and they said things were fine, but, unless someone else cleaned, I know they were not. I have been blessed with peace about it all because I cannot change what has already happened. God has given me the grace to let Him have it and to take steps to prevent a recurrence. So I leave it with God.
I have set several reminders in place to make sure I know what day it is and what I am to do on that day. I already had some triggers set but was not actively using them because I sometimes believe I am more competent than I really am. I "forget" that my brain is still impaired and always will be. I "recover" from the injury as do all brain injured folks, by learning to use my damaged brain to its fullest capacity and with as many strategies for success as are available.
Thanks to self therapies learned at Giveback combined with strategies I have learned elsewhere or devised on my own, as well as some gadgets, I am able to function better than might be expected. But it takes constant effort and continual awareness of my need to stay on top of things. In short, I got cocky and slacked off... and it got me in trouble.
And my day was like this...
Promises
I have set several reminders in place to make sure I know what day it is and what I am to do on that day. I already had some triggers set but was not actively using them because I sometimes believe I am more competent than I really am. I "forget" that my brain is still impaired and always will be. I "recover" from the injury as do all brain injured folks, by learning to use my damaged brain to its fullest capacity and with as many strategies for success as are available.
Thanks to self therapies learned at Giveback combined with strategies I have learned elsewhere or devised on my own, as well as some gadgets, I am able to function better than might be expected. But it takes constant effort and continual awareness of my need to stay on top of things. In short, I got cocky and slacked off... and it got me in trouble.
And my day was like this...
- 08:10 Richard called. My car door was open when he left and the interior light was out. I probably left the door open. Battery may be dead.
- 09:17 Praying the cars starts, I tried it and it fired right up! I am leaving now for church.
- 12:37 Back from church. It is Sunday, not Saturday. I went in my church cleaning clothes. oops. No cleaning today. Car started no problem.
- 15:46 Studying Ecclesiastes. A challenging book with many nuances... I will be at it a while.
- 19:05 Just returned from and after dinner walk with Richard. Beautiful breezy evening.
- 20:27 My Mac is not recognizing the Maxtor external hard drive it backs up to. Macs are usually so well behaved. I am bummed.
Promises
Thelma was surprised at her outburst and even more shocked that she had walked out of the apartment in a huff, even slamming the door. She smiled through her angry tears imagining that her mother would have been proud of such spunk. It felt good to speak up for herself. Edgar had no right to make major decisions unilaterally. They were a family now, and she had a say-so, too!
Without realizing she was going there, she found her herself in the small park where she and Edgar had spent there first real time together, where he had proposed. She sought out the bench, their bench, and sat. Looking at her swollen ankles, she began to notice the fatigue creeping up on her, making her limbs heavy, her breathing strained. She rested, reliving her first visit to this bench.
At thirty five, Thelma felt like a young girl swooning over her first love. She giggled softly. She and Edgar had just had their first real fight. Somehow that pleased Thelma. She was not a fighter. Maybe she would become one. No, that wouldn't be good, not good at all. Edgar had been married to a scrapper and had no kind words for that woman.
Thelma rubbed her bulging tummy in the universal manner of gravid women close to "their time." She would not become a fighter, but she would stand up more for herself and her baby. Edgar was a good man, a kind and loving man, but he was often completely unaware of her needs and could be insensitive without knowing it. Yes, she had some things to talk with her husband about, but first she had to walk home.
But she was too tired to start. Maybe she'd have a little talk with Jesus first. Maybe she'd have more strength then.
When she raised her heard from prayer, she spotted Edgar's distinctive swaying walk. She knew it was him long before she could make out his face. "Oh Lord," she whispered, "I hope he isn't mad." He must have spotted her then because he broke into a rolling run, his low-riding work pants looking as if they may fall off at any moment. Thelma stifled a laugh and was overwhelmed with love for this lumbering bear of a man, her gentle giant. Somehow, she knew he wasn't angry.
She stood to fill his enveloping arms and swayed dizzily before he steadied her. Together they collapsed onto their special bench which groaned in protest. He held her face and kissed her eyes, her cheeks, her lips, talking baby-talk to her all the while. They each promised to never walk out on one another, never, ever.
Her original cause forgotten, Thelma told him she wanted a wedding ring before she went to the hospital so people wouldn't think she was an unwed mother. She admitted it had bothered her the whole pregnancy. Promises were easily made, but keeping them was never Edgar's long suit. Thelma knew this already but chose to believe he's keep this one.
The next afternoon Edgar drove his bulging bride to the park and they sat on their bench where once more, he got ceremoniously down on one bended knee to softly ask if Thelma would be his wife for life. As he did so, he placed a carved gold band on her left hand. They had to work at it as her fingers were swollen, but she was determined and made it fit.
Thelma would treasure this moment her entire life. Maybe Edgar wouldn't keep all of his many promises, he had kept the most important ones already. She could live with that.
Because it had brought on such an intense reaction the first time he mentioned it, Edgar had not spoken again of the house he bought with some of the money from selling his trucking company. After he gave her the ring, he took Thelma for a drive and eventually pulled into the driveway of a small, frame house. He couldn't repress a broad grin as he opened the car door for her and said, "Welcome home!"
As he came to the door he tried to pick her up to carry over the threshold but she would have none of that. "You might drop me and hurt the baby," she said backing away.
"Welcome home!" rang a chorus of voices. There was Bud and Roqua Deeter and Edgar's sister Faymie with her husband Max. Edgar had packed and arranged for the four conspirators to move all they owned from the apartment to the new home. The women had set up the kitchen and brought food to celebrate.
Thelma thought her heart would burst with joy. She could feel a tightness in her chest but did not recognize that it was not entirely due to the emotional highs of this momentous day.
Without realizing she was going there, she found her herself in the small park where she and Edgar had spent there first real time together, where he had proposed. She sought out the bench, their bench, and sat. Looking at her swollen ankles, she began to notice the fatigue creeping up on her, making her limbs heavy, her breathing strained. She rested, reliving her first visit to this bench.
At thirty five, Thelma felt like a young girl swooning over her first love. She giggled softly. She and Edgar had just had their first real fight. Somehow that pleased Thelma. She was not a fighter. Maybe she would become one. No, that wouldn't be good, not good at all. Edgar had been married to a scrapper and had no kind words for that woman.
Thelma rubbed her bulging tummy in the universal manner of gravid women close to "their time." She would not become a fighter, but she would stand up more for herself and her baby. Edgar was a good man, a kind and loving man, but he was often completely unaware of her needs and could be insensitive without knowing it. Yes, she had some things to talk with her husband about, but first she had to walk home.
But she was too tired to start. Maybe she'd have a little talk with Jesus first. Maybe she'd have more strength then.
When she raised her heard from prayer, she spotted Edgar's distinctive swaying walk. She knew it was him long before she could make out his face. "Oh Lord," she whispered, "I hope he isn't mad." He must have spotted her then because he broke into a rolling run, his low-riding work pants looking as if they may fall off at any moment. Thelma stifled a laugh and was overwhelmed with love for this lumbering bear of a man, her gentle giant. Somehow, she knew he wasn't angry.
She stood to fill his enveloping arms and swayed dizzily before he steadied her. Together they collapsed onto their special bench which groaned in protest. He held her face and kissed her eyes, her cheeks, her lips, talking baby-talk to her all the while. They each promised to never walk out on one another, never, ever.
Her original cause forgotten, Thelma told him she wanted a wedding ring before she went to the hospital so people wouldn't think she was an unwed mother. She admitted it had bothered her the whole pregnancy. Promises were easily made, but keeping them was never Edgar's long suit. Thelma knew this already but chose to believe he's keep this one.
The next afternoon Edgar drove his bulging bride to the park and they sat on their bench where once more, he got ceremoniously down on one bended knee to softly ask if Thelma would be his wife for life. As he did so, he placed a carved gold band on her left hand. They had to work at it as her fingers were swollen, but she was determined and made it fit.
Thelma would treasure this moment her entire life. Maybe Edgar wouldn't keep all of his many promises, he had kept the most important ones already. She could live with that.
Because it had brought on such an intense reaction the first time he mentioned it, Edgar had not spoken again of the house he bought with some of the money from selling his trucking company. After he gave her the ring, he took Thelma for a drive and eventually pulled into the driveway of a small, frame house. He couldn't repress a broad grin as he opened the car door for her and said, "Welcome home!"
As he came to the door he tried to pick her up to carry over the threshold but she would have none of that. "You might drop me and hurt the baby," she said backing away.
"Welcome home!" rang a chorus of voices. There was Bud and Roqua Deeter and Edgar's sister Faymie with her husband Max. Edgar had packed and arranged for the four conspirators to move all they owned from the apartment to the new home. The women had set up the kitchen and brought food to celebrate.
Thelma thought her heart would burst with joy. She could feel a tightness in her chest but did not recognize that it was not entirely due to the emotional highs of this momentous day.
© 2006 by Iona Hoeppner
| 4:58 PM
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