They say bad things come in threes. I usually don't prescribe to superstitions but this past month has been a sucky month.
As you may know, my dad fell off his riding lawnmower and fractured his pelvis. He was in traction for three weeks, two of which were spent in the worst nursing home I have ever seen. But they were the only home that would take traction patients after he had to leave the hospital.
Secondly, I had a car accident. For the past few months my new psychiatrist had been gradually increasing my anti-anxiety meds. When my dad had his accident, I couldn't sleep, so I combined that with some old anti-anxiety med that my old psychiatrist had given me to help me sleep when I traveled overseas. Now I see why they say don't combine meds. I don't know what happened if I fell asleep or passed out but I wound up in a ditch. I was OK but my car's engine was flooded and rendered undriveable.
Thirdly, my sister's dog died. She was their family dog for about ten years, she grew up with my niece. It was a terrible loss as she helped that family so much through so many troublesome times. The house is too quiet without her. She was so friendly to everyone, and just loved attention.
I prayed a lot this month. I asked for prayer from others, I even posted a prayer on prayerworks through ktis.fm. I cried a lot too. I don't like to see my parents getting older. I don't like to see a beloved pet gone, or a family suffering from her loss. I don't like causing my family grief because I made a careless and selfish decision that caused me to have an accident.
But I do believe God was with me. I got off the anti-anxiety meds and quit going to the new psychiatrist. I already feel back to "normal," at least my normal. I believe God kept me from getting hurt in my accident, or from hurting anyone else. That could have ended so badly. I believe God sent an angel, either a real one or a good Samaritan to get into the back seat of my car to help me to calm down and get out of the car. I had to go out the back seat as the front of the car was in water.
We were supposed to go to New York City next week, but after dad's accident, we didn't care about that. I just wanted my dad to be OK. And he is. He is home now, under the watchful and loving care of his wife of almost 55 years. Their relationship is a testament to me about what marriage is all about: being there for each other through it all.
Staying at my parent's house, being with their dog, Minnie, helped me in grieving the loss of my beloved cat Chocolate, who died last fall. Minnie always made me smile, except when she whined in the morning for me to get out of bed.
So even in all that turmoil, God was real to me. He never promised an easy life. He just promised to be there, if I let him.
I am thankful for that. I can't do this life on my own.
All this has reminded me of what I do have, instead of lamenting of what I don't have. I have my family, my home, and my memories of my loved ones that have passed. I have a good life. And I am blessed.