Sweetening the Melancholy

I thought about grabbing a Starbucks coffee on the way. Definitely should've swallowed some Advil. Because without pain relief or a little pick-me-up, my stitch removal turned into a dicey encounter with a surgeon, a small knife, and about 18 stitches a little too embedded in my skin.

The ensuing pain surprised me because I've been relatively pain free since about 10 days after the surgery. That was not the case last spring. So I was hoping the doctor was going to release me from my no-weight bearing status, allowing me ditch the knee-scooter during my midnight potty runs. On the contrary, he replied with a resounding, "No!"

"We broke that bone," he explained. "We sawed through your first metatarsal and then put it back together. You need more rest."

These photos are from my right foot surgery. 

But the left foot x-rays look exactly the same.

The bruising in my arch, combined with the reality of three procedures and incisions (of which I only shared one), forced me to face the need for more healing. 

Still, I left a little disappointed. Melancholy even.

I want to decorate for Christmas. Make an apple pie for Thanksgiving. I want to be out and about, but too much movement causes severe pain in my hips and right arm.

So I sit. Nap. And thank God for family that provides entertainment and car rides to sweeten the melancholy.

Just Sunday night, a small group of us gathered for a painting class in honor of Courtney's birthday. I helped arrange the event and made sure we had kettle corn to share. But once there, Courtney took over, ensuring I had whatever I needed.

The end result was worth the added effort.

A few hours ago I spent thirty minutes teaching an eight-year-old how to play Jingle Bells. The arrangement is in G position instead of C position, demanding she process all new notes. It's a challenging choice for her but she made good progress today. 

The simple feat felt solid.

Later, two high school students ate pizza and hung out as we practiced Christmas music for our December recital. While that may seem sacrilegious to some (since we haven't eaten turkey and mashed potatoes yet this week), a certain calm overtakes me when we dive into holiday tunes that proclaim peace on earth and joy for all.

It's a bit serendipitous. Unrealistic even. Cause this world serves up more hard than we can process.

But it's worth the time out. A holiday time out. Even if they stir up some melancholy that needs a little sweetening. 

You may be thrilled by upcoming events or you may be a little underwhelmed like me. But no matter what this week or the next month holds, seek the sweetness. And I don't mean the sugar hidden in the pumpkin or pecan pie.

Look for the moments that have meaning. Even the painfully ordinary or just simply boring ones you might have formerly ignored. 

Value your family even if they annoy you. Hug the relative that cancelled your vote. Savor the taste of flavorful food, even if it isn't gluten free. And live in the body you've been given... no matter how slow or fast you move.

That's my plan. We were made for a purpose. To make whatever big or small difference we can make. So don't skip out.

Sweeten someone's melancholy and then have a Happy Thanksgiving!

Photos courtesy of pixabay.com