Sunday, April 06, 2008


Originally uploaded by katzeye

Recently, my daughter Kiera came out for a visit. It’s always fun to have her because she is a person who is nearly larger than life. By that, I mean she is full of personality and energy, and she is colorful, and sweet, and well, she fills up a room (no, Kiera, I am not saying you are fat!).

She has been a force to be dealt with since birth. Actually, even at birth. Once she was ready to enter the world, she was coming in a hurry. (I am talking about the delivery stage, here, she was one of my quickest deliveries, arriving after about 13- hours of labor, but once the delivery stage began, she was in a huge hurry to get out and see the world!!! I was in an alternative birth center, and I remember the staff running around trying to prepare for her once they realized she wasn’t going to wait any longer.

Then, she surprised me at how she could be so content, and so motivated, and so loving, even as an infant. I could put her to bed at night, wide awake, and she didn’t cry! (after the three boys, this was a very strange, new experience!). In the mornings, she would wake up and begin to sing to herself until I came to get her. And everyone got love from her, from infancy on.

As a toddler, she liked to go into her room, and change her clothes a few times a day. She’d come out in some truly creative get-ups, often borrowing from my closet!

She would sing, dance, coo, all day long. She took ballet as a pudgy pre-schooler, and danced on stage. She liked to create stories and draw pictures all day long.

When she was four, she asked me to teach her to read. I got out some books with repetitive patterns, and in a little while, she was reading everything she could get her hands on.

She liked to take the dog and pretend she was her baby. She’d bathe her and wrap her in a towel and rock her. I am pretty sure the dog really believed that was her mother.

Anyway, this is about our visit. When she is here, I notice the ways that we are different. She likes to be very busy, and always fills up her time with many activities, and talks to a lot of people, and is very extroverted. I, on the other hand, like to be not busy, not fill up my time, and not talk so much, and I am more introverted.

But I also noticed the ways in which we are the same. As we took a walk on the beach, over the sand dunes, we were talking, but we both kind of stopped talking and I realized that we were both being distracted by the weeds.

Yes, weeds.

We both had our cameras and soon we were photographing the weeds.

Now, keep in mind, at first glance, these were just ordinary weeds. At first glance, they seemed to all be a kind of dull shade of brown. Most people would have just passed them by. But not us.

I was really enjoying that there was someone else in the world who would find beauty in the weeds, and to know that it was my own daughter.

What a precious gift to have in common the ability to see beauty in the world around us.

I love you, Kiera!

Friday, April 04, 2008

At Six Weeks

At Six Weeks
Originally uploaded by katzeye

Today I walked a little bit, wearing just a neoprene support on the ankle/foot, and, imagine this, a pair of matching hiking sandals!

Healing is a miraculous thing! It's not just that over the past six weeks the foot went through all those stages starting out as a big, purple box, and gradually, very gradually, changing ever so slightly. I went from having to crawl, to walking with crutches, to limping and then finally, to being able to bear weight.

It's not just that torn ligaments and tendons began to slowly, and carefully, heal and grow every so slightly stronger a little bit at a time.

It's a whole lot more than that.

I know it was just a sprained ankle, and even if it's a third degree one, the worst kind, in the whole scheme of things, I realize it's just a minor and temporary injury.

But it has been six weeks of my not being able to do what I am used to doing. It has been six weeks of often feeling frustrated, and sometimes depressed, and feeling as if for the rest of my life I will be limping in unmatched footwear.

It was six weeks to slow down, be humble, be teachable, and to think about what I could learn from this enforced period of such.

It was people praying for me, including random surfers on the beach, kind people checking on me and my progress, people with experience with such things giving me much appreciated advice, and it was kind of amazing.

Faith, our connections to each other, love, and all those good things were the silver lining.

One neighbor has seen me walk to the beach nearly each day, at first, in a giant boot, and then in a little white inflatable one, and then my hinged sports model, and he has acknowledged my progress each time I have passed his house and been greeted by his dog.

I am grateful for all of those kinds of things. I probably have a few more weeks before I actually move "normally" again, and a few months before things are totally healed, but for now, I am just so very grateful for the things I have learned and experienced while being the "gimp."

Thank you people,