Of Bears and Penguins

Kid's drawing
This is my first blog-entry in over a week. Mostly because at this time last week I was in a bed at St. Luke's Hospital in Chesterfield, Missouri.

Two of my dearest friends and I were in a car-wreck early last Saturday morning. And so all week, I've wondered what to write in this blog. My inclination was to lean towards the comic. And trust me, a weekend of Sara on lots of medication, "high as a kite" as one of my friends put it, lends itself amply to comedic purposes.

I have really beautiful people in my life. Truly, beautiful people in my life. Melissa, Joanna, and I spent a weekend in the hospital and the amount of support we received from our friends and family scattered throughout several different places was astounding.

What do I write?

I think that has been the question for the three of us that got out of a 1988 Honda Accord early last Saturday. Even though Mel, Jo, and I went through the weekend together, I'm quite sure we came away from it with different perceptions. So what follows is part of what's being going through my head for the past week.

There's so many different aspects of these weekend that I'm sure I'll be picking a part for a while to come. But the one that rings truest is the friendship that carried three college kids through a weekend stranded in an unfamiliar place.

I have now spent two weekends of my life in hospitals because of car accidents. The first one was with my brother after his wreck, and the second was just this last weekend with me in the role of patient.

Having been now on both sides of the hospital bed, as it were, I think the role of patient is decidely easier. You have a lot of drugs, you're not all that aware of your surroundings, and if you're lucky you're nurses are nice and don't jostle you too much.

Melissa and Joanna had the decidely more difficult part of being lucid and alert for most of the weekend (aside from the times when Mel was "feeling really good" -- due to large amounts of codine).

They were nursing their own injuries, and trying to sort out their emotions, but they stayed by my side the entire weekend. They brushed my hair, helped me eat, and held my hand. They showed me amazing love, compassion, and gentleness. And courage. Much more courage than I typically possess.

In short, I was blown away by their character this weekend. Not that I had any doubts before...I've always known them to be amazing. I know that they got me through the weekend. And I would like to think that even in my purple haze, I was somewhat of encouragement to them. (I do remember Jo crying at one point, Mel was asleep due to aforementioned codine, and Jo was handling the phone. She was sitting on my bed faced away from me, and I could tell that she was crying. At the time I thought I was actually not loopy, and I remember patting her arm, and telling her "It's okay, don't cry, Jo." -- only not that cohesively. And at the time, I thought I was being pretty comforting -- I was happy to return some of the comfort that I gotten from them. Now it just kind of makes me chuckle, because I really don't think I managed to be all that helpful and/or comforting, just really loopy.)

There's not a whole lot of my time in the hospital that I remember very clearly. But I know that the presence of these two friends had an unbelivably calming and quieting effect on me. There were several times that I looked over my hospital bed simply to assure myself that they were still there. And once assured that they were indeed in arms reach, I would lay back calmer and able to rest. That's what I remember, more than anything about my weekend in a hospital bed. How peaceful and good Mel and Jo made me feel just by being there. By being willing to help me get up, or lay down. By moving my pillows, or holding my hand. The feigned excitement when the nurses brought me a clear liquid diet, and the endless patience. The amazing patience they both had. Getting up to get me water, or ice, or juice, or move pillows, or hold my hand because I asked them to.

I could go on...I thank God for them. Oddly enough, before the car-wreck, I was planning a blog entry on these two girls. Simply because of the support they have always shown me. I'm so thankful for it.

My words are poor. And I wish they were better. I wish they were prettier or more eloquent. Because as they are now they can't possibly convey what my friends mean to me. It's a bit like when you're a little kid and the best you can manage is a few shaky crayon lines that try to represent your reality on a crumpled bit of paper. The little kid may think it's a masterfully done work, a perfect explanation for his surrounding world. But everyone else who sees it requires a small explanation for the shapeless lines of wax on the page.

And so here is the heart of what I'm trying to say:
If you have the privelige of knowing Mel and Jo than you should count your blessings. Because to know them is to know strength, tenderness, fortitude, and gentleness. I've never understood why women are thought to be the weaker sex.
These girls prove that untrue daily. They are two of the strongest women I know.

I love them dearly. I'm so very blessed to have them in my life.