Although it sounds superficial I’ve often said “I live to eat”, thinking of my next meal as more entertainment and less sustenance. A recent hiking accident and broken ankle turned my motto on its head with food deliveries from friends and neighbors becoming not only sustenance but part of the healing process.
How do I say this? I consider myself a fairly empathetic person but I had no idea what you experience when you break a bone. I always thought it meant a cast that transitioned into a work of art over time. Wrong!
For starters, the duration of my “ordeal” I didn’t have a cast but a “boot". Really a fancy term for a bandaged leg in a clunky, chunky, uncomfortable velcroed creation. At least it beat the earlier wrapped version that was not only hot but unwieldy (and not shower-friendly). My memory of those first days is falling into everything: the hamper, the garbage can in the office, the flat floor (!). You name it. Everything was a mountain when trying to maneuver with that appendage. (Don’t even ask about the time I overslept for an important meeting and tried to “run fast”.)
Looking back on the past few months a few things stand out in memory:
- The kindness of strangers. I was amazed by the number of doors opened and chairs given up for me. (I’m not worthy!)
- The genuine concern from family and friends. It seemed like my world slowed to a halt for two months and yet those around me definitely hung on for the ride.
- Food from friends. Soup (tomato, Thai), chocolate cake, crab cakes and all manner of salads. But soup was key to climbing up and back out into health.
The healing process is probably different for everyone. But if you have a friend or loved one going through a surgery, sickness or extended illness, food is a welcomed gift.
And to all my friends and family, there aren’t enough words to convey the gratitude I feel for turning words into action, and food into healing my body and mind. Suffice it to say I love - and feel loved - by you. Thank you from the bottom of my heart.