I suppose when things are going well, the whole world looks sunny. That’s sure how it’s seemed around here lately. Every time I turn around, someone pleasantly surprises me with thoughtfulness.
I must admit to being a bit of a Mrs. Kravitz at the moment…curious and crabby rolled into one, because the TV show Lost is using a house across the street for filming tomorrow. In preparation, the “No Parking” signs appeared out of the blue on Saturday. I was miffed, not knowing the reason that we apparently would not be able to park in the same ZIP code as our home — the barricades with notices were everywhere.
Yesterday we found out it was Lost, and watched a crew move the normal furnishings out of the house, and move the set furnishings in. As I type, all the semi-trucks are moving into place outside. I was concerned about how we would go anywhere with Abbie if we had to walk over a block to the van. It takes more than one trip to get all of her stuff into the van, along with her.
I decided to be the modern version of Mrs. Kravitz, who simply stews and doesn’t open her big, cranky mouth. Good thing, because it allowed me to receive the gift of compassion. We were loading Abbie up for therapy today when one of the crew guys walked by. We chatted for a moment about Abbie’s chair, and then he disappeared. He came back with a security guard and the location manager in tow. Devon, the location manager, told me — “You just park your van right in front of your gate tomorrow…just disregard those signs. If anyone hassles you, come see me right away.”
It means so much when people can see with their own eyes, and hearts, without explanation or request. I’m back to plain old me now….well, almost. There’s enough Mrs. Kravitz left to ensure I’ll be parked in my living room tomorrow, overlooking the goings-on across the street.
We then went to therapy – and had more excitement. We’ve been working with Abbie’s arms intensely using a method Maria showed me last week and an oil I created. Pardon my lack of humility here, but we have achieved stunning results so far. Not only are we getting the arms to open up, but we are getting inward rotation, flexible wrists, and open hands. I was so happy to share this progress with our faithful therapists.
Then, Abbie got to do her favorite therapy exercise: sit-to-stand. She loves being in charge of her body, and “telling” us when she’s ready to stand by starting the move herself. She looks amazing on her own two feet (with Lynette supporting her.) After a few iterations, we measured her knee flexion to compare to the measurements we’d taken before beginning. She broke her records for both knees today!! 75 degrees!
After bring Abbie home, I went to her school toting the medical paperwork we needed to complete the enrollment process. I must say again, the staff just blows me away. A packet was waiting there for me, but before I could open it, the principal came out and wanted to introduce me to the counselor, who was coordinating an upcoming field trip. You see, we don’t know exactly when Abbie will be starting school, but even so, they have already planned to include Abbie in the field trip. They had a permission slip for me to fill out, and we made plans for us to just meet them at the site, since it’s two blocks from our house. They are going SO far out of their way!
Once I opened the packet, I just blessed the name of our new Teacher-Angel, Mrs. T., the regular-ed 3rd grade teacher. She had included three baggies of seeds for Abbie to do the science experiment, as well as worksheets for the current language arts chapter. What thoughtfulness, and willingness to go the extra mile for a student who is not even technically hers yet.
Blessed, blessed, blessed. That is how I feel tonight!
But, in the midst of all our joy, there is a reality check and sorrow. One of the links on the left side of Abbie’s blog says “Tori Schmanski.” Tori was a beautiful, bright, dancing teenager when the car she was in ended up in water. She had the same kind of injury Abbie does. Tori passed away on November 7th, leaving behind a family who did everything, EVERYTHING they could to support, nurture and heal her. I can’t say that events like this, sudden turns like this, don’t haunt my heart, even on days as shiny as this one. Please, pray for the Schmanski family tonight.