timing is everything

Thursday night, as I sat on the aisle and watched Iz run past in the opening number of her middle school production of Grease, I remembered that, months ago, my brother and made a date to be there together. Post-surgery and well on the way to healing. Our first transplant date, 3/21, feels like a lifetime ago.

Yesterday, as a communication misunderstanding led to a transportation nightmare - not a cab to be found in the driving rain, not enough time for a bus ride in traffic to the upper east, that led to 2 subways and a frantic search for affordable shoes on Madison Avenue (Iz's were unwearable by the time we got uptown), all I could be was grateful that the 5/9 date didn't happen. There would have been no way I'd have been able to survive that journey 10 days post-op.

Sitting at the Metropolitan Museum of Art, as Iz's project was honored as best middle school in Manhattan in the Ezra Jack Keats picture book making competition, I was present, fully present, the widest of smiles stretching across my face as my child's creativity and imagination got a huge public shout out. From there we flew downtown for her second play performance during which she had to suffer through and eventually overcome anxiety of mountainous proportions.

The highs and lows of the day were epic. As we searched for a cab to get us home, relief filled me that the 5/23 surgery date wasn't happening. Heading to the operation exhausted would have been a disaster.

This morning, after having had to walk the dogs at 6:30, I'm passing on my favorite craft show in the world to spend time with Jack, who's had to be without me, much of the past few days. And I have to say, he was a trooper about all that's been going on.

Timing.

All this time I'd been frustrated to no end at every delay. Through a very busy spring I'd spun schedules and scenarios trying to get all the pieces to work, hoping that I'd be post-surgery and would be able to handle Passover, the play, school testing, PTA elections, high school tours, and birthdays while recovering.

But, I wasn't. And perhaps knowing that I could have been living through all this with extra challenges, I've appreciated every moment of the tumult, the craziness, the ups and downs. The joy, the drama, the thrills, the exhaustion. Being fully immersed isn't something I'm usually good at. My head is generally spinning in different directions - keeping me from fully being where I am.

Right now though, I'm here. Grateful, thankful, soaking in, lapping up. Reveling, supporting, celebrating, listening.

Loving.

Being.

Accepting.

And understanding that I can't go into this surgery with regret or angst or frustration. When the time is right, it will happen.

Could be in 2 weeks folks. We'll see.