Sick Day for the Mommy

I remember my 28th birthday as one of the worst days of my life. I was desperately ill but my 10-month old baby wasn't. She was up and around and needing my constant attention and I just wanted to lie still -- my body ached so terribly. Husband had a job that was hard to cover for, and I had no family and no church. I was alone -- so very alone. In moments like those it is really hard for me to see the forest for the trees, though even that tendency is becoming less and less of a problem as I mature -- in life, and in my Life with Christ.

Now, it is almost ten years past that very long day and I am sick again. What a difference a decade makes! Everything is very different; that little baby who wouldn't let me rest then, has grown to be my greatest helper. Truth is, I wasn't near as sick today as I was that day ten years ago, but I was, nonetheless, free and grateful to be able to stay in bed and leave her in charge of her little sisters. She fed them breakfast, fed me breakfast, supervised their morning grooming, fed them lunch, fed me lunch, monitored their television viewing against unappreciated marketing, kept their messes manageable, brought me water, answered the phone and acted as my eyes and ears downstairs as we stayed wired with her Motorola "Talkabouts." She did a terrific job and she did it with a cheerful heart!

The day was not without its rare but necessary intervention, however. You-can-guess-who had to spend a few hours on my bed with me this afternoon for being generally uncooperative. And I'm not too proud to admit to using educational t.v. to keep everyone safely focused in one spot -- less movement makes for less accidents!

As for my wonderful Fifi, I just praise the Lord for today. My own mother has tearfully shared a story of her greatest childhood regret -- a time when she was about Fifi's age and her mother had come home to recover from a surgery. She is still haunted by the fact that she never thought to check on her mother, never thought to offer a drink of water or just sit and visit in the day before there was a television in every room. My Fifi will not have to suffer such a regret. She can enjoy the memory of being a blessing to her parents and to her sisters. I get to enjoy the memory of watching my daughter rise to the occasion -- beautifully. Thank you, Fifi.