The Things I Take For Granted

As much as I’d like to think I’m cognizant of every blessing, the reality is that there are many things I take for granted.

As I write this, America is celebrating Veteran’s Day. My dad, like many in our hometown, was a veteran of World War II. Dad was just shy of his eighteenth birthday when he arrived in Europe. Although combat had ended by that time, he still saw things he never talked about much. Watching the local Veteran’s Day parade, I marveled at the youth of the service members marching down the street. I realized for the first time how young Dad really was when he saw the ocean for the first time from the deck of a troop transport.

So much has changed since Dad left this world in 2005. I wish I could talk to him now. I’d love to hear his thoughts on the pandemic, the economy, politics, and the general state of world affairs. I am thankful for the benefit of his wisdom and example, that “quit” and “give up” were not part of his vocabulary.

In his book The Light in the Heart: Inspirational Thoughts for Living Your Best Life, author Roy T. Bennett writes, “nothing should be taken for granted.” Bennett also writes in his book, “We don’t truly appreciate what we have until it’s gone.”

I’ve always thought of myself as one who appreciates what I have. My parents certainly did their best to instill this in their two little girls. But the last few weeks have presented more than ample opportunities to ponder this thought.

The first occasion started with a little puddle of water next to our water well enclosure. Before long, the “little puddle” became a not-so-little stream, and the enclosure filled with water. Of course, this was on a Saturday, and my scuba instructor husband had just left town on a dive trip. For safety’s sake, I quickly showered, filled several containers of water, and shut off the well pump. For the next two days, I carried water in pitchers and pails to flush toilets and wash dishes. The gas range and a pan served as a water heater.

At the same time, my remote garage door opener went on the fritz. While I could open the door with the remote, all attempts to close the door with the remote proved futile. Fortunately, I could still close the door with the wall unit to secure the garage. I just had to allow extra time for those logistics, which went something like this: Back the car out of the garage. Shift transmission of said car into park. Exit the car, step into the garage, and close the door using the wall unit. Walk back through the house, out the front door, and back to the car.

Inconvenient, but in retrospect not nearly as exhausting as it sounds. Within a couple of days, professionals found and fixed a failed coupling in the well enclosure. My husband dismantled a spider web lurking about the garage door sensor. (I have yet to figure out how a spider web would affect only the operation of the remote.) When I lamented our lack of running water, I thought of a village overseas I learned about at church. Their only access to water is a stream upon which they rely for all aspects of water usage. Turns out sanitation is the least of their worries. Several people in the village, including children, were killed by crocodiles in their attempts to collect water for their families. Although we have numerous wild creatures in our area, I’ve never had to fight a crocodile for water.

My husband and I agreed our inconveniences were merely first-world problems and counted our blessings.

Three weeks later, while loading food in the car for our annual underwater pumpkin carving Spooktacular, I tripped and fell. I was still reeling from my unhappy landing when our Jack Russell arrived to investigate the commotion. As he licked my face, I noticed that my right arm felt strange and that I’d skinned my knee. I also realized that what goes up comes back down much easier than that which goes down comes back up. Fortunately, I was next to the car. I managed to pull myself up by the door handle and hobbled into the house to call my husband. My arm still felt strange when he arrived home, and we agreed a visit to the emergency room was in order.

Diagnosis: broken elbow.

I told the young lady who splinted my arm, “If this is the worst thing that happens to me today, I’ve still got it made.” I reminded myself frequently that I could have hit my head, broken a knee, or worse. Still, I had no idea how much one depends on two hands until I could depend on only one. Within hours, I single-handedly managed to trap myself in a shirt and tangle my hair in a curling brush. Routine actions I took for granted suddenly became tedious and difficult. Determined to be as self-sufficient as possible, I learned to re-think the simplest of tasks.

Just as things were returning to a semblance of normal, the transmission went out on my car.

Paul writes in his second letter to the Corinthians of a momentary, light affliction that works for us a far more exceeding weight of glory. Our recent problems are merely bumps in the road; unfortunate, but not insurmountable. My elbow is healing; the transmission is fixed. Why so many things went wrong over a period of five weeks I cannot say. But, I believe there is a reason.

Meanwhile, I’m trying to be more thoughtful of others going through difficulties, thankful that mine will soon pass, and grateful for the things I so easily take for granted.

Copyright 2022 lifeatroomtemperature.com Sherry A Hathaway. All rights reserved.