You will LOVE Lizzi’s latest blog on being thankful. It’s funny, rich in friendship, and mirrors a woman who enjoys living. I appreciate her authenticity most of all. Whether she’s feeling morose or giggling all over her blog, she’s genuine. You know how hard that is? Lizzi is willing to lay her soul bare before us in the worst of times, which is a fearless trust. Well, perhaps she has some trepidation, but what a courageous woman. Consider joining her Ten Things of Thankful, if you haven’t yet.
Today’s TToT are highlighted so you won’t miss them. All TEN of them!
I’m thankful that my dearest widower is a human alarm clock. He woke me right on time today, cuddling close and asking me how I slept. Something had reminded me of my brush with death in 2006. I was fulfilling the dream of a lifetime by horseback riding once again. Unfortunately, I had a demon-possessed horse. Frosty had an icy heart and indomitable will. He nipped me, pushed me, and tried to throw me at every opportunity. I pretended that I wasn’t afraid, but Frosty’s eyes saw through me. When we started cantering, he got so unruly that my instructor put us in an enclosed ring to fight it out. No contest. Frosty and I never let on that he’d won. We both hated that ring.
Another riding lesson on the coldest day we’d had that winter. It was Frosty and I, Walter and a dear friend. Frosty was conflicted. He hated Walter more than he hated me, so the lesson was fine until the last two minutes. By that time, my hands were numb with cold as the temperature dropped below freezing. We were finishing our cantering loops when Frosty seized an opportunity to bite Walter’s rear. Unfortunately, that meant Frosty turned sharply left, his head whipping around like that kid in The Exorcist, while I flew sharply right. I sailed through the air and crashed onto the frozen ground. I awoke to a strange sound, which turned out to be my desperate attempts to breathe. The paramedics strapped me to a gurney. I spent three days in the hospital with a concussion, broken rib, and a trauma team deciding whether to operate. I learned that morphine has little effect on me. I never slept a wink during those days, so I met wonderful folks who stayed up all night taking care of others. My widower brought the bed bears to lull me to sleep but they were not happy in that cold hospital. I haunted the nursing station every night, telling them that my IV machine sounded like it was talking to me. No wonder they kept me there so long! I lost my brain’s spell-check and more IQ points. I gained a weather-forecasting rib which has broken again to remind me how blessed I am to have survived.