It is just the beginning of the year and already, I had three incidents of injury in our family. My niece, Danielle, just underwent surgery for her fractured arm, which she sustained during a dance practice that involved some lifting and tossing-in-the-air routine.
Last month, I got a call from the school nurse, who told me that my 7-year-old daughter, Laila, sustained a gash on her forehead. Laila was running across the room when she tripped and hit her head on a table’s leg.
This week, I had to bring my husband to the ER after he injured his midfoot from a basketball game. Initial findings show a possible injury in his ligaments that’s why a visit to the orthopedic surgeon is in order.
Not a very good way to start the year, I’m telling you. And so soon after the yearend car accident of my nephew, Justin, which damaged his Lola’s car’s frontlights and radiator.
I haven’t written a Grateful post lately. It’s not that I can’t find anything to be grateful about because there are still a-plenty. It’s just that I can’t bring myself to write about other stuff given these circumstances in my family.
But this week, I am back and I am writing about being grateful for these accidents.
Yes, despite the mishaps, I am thankful just the same that that was the only thing that happened to my family. It could’ve been worse, with just a little more push, just a little more movement, just a tad more force.
We spent so much for the car repair but at least, Justin didn’t get hurt. Danielle suffered through the operation and the whole process of having her right arm in a cast but at least it was just her arm, and not her head. Laila may have had a gash but she probably wouldn’t be as reckless next time around.
My husband’s walking around with a crutch these days. He bikes for four hours every Sunday, runs thrice a week, and plays basketball once a week. Maybe this is a sign that he has to slow down.
So I am grateful, yes, I truly am. But please Lord, please. No more, no more.