Florence

When my husband came home from surgery I was looking forward to drawing on my inner Florence Nightingale. If he needed something, I would be right there for him. If he asked for a glass of water, I would happily get it for him.

Florence was with me in the hospital when the nurses weren't attentive. My husband had to use the bathroom. I called the nurse once. I called her twice. "She's with another patient right now," the aide said. 

"But my husband has to use the bathroom," I urged. In the meantime, he was beginning to get up out of bed, which was a no no. In the end, I helped him to the bathroom, and Florence encouraged me to stay overnight so that he would have the attention he needed. 

By the time we got home, he was walking and moving. He was getting up with just a cane. By day two he was off meds. Flo left me for a little while. "Can you grab my shirt from the closet?" No problem. Shirts he needed. "Eggs for breakfast would be nice." Uh oh. Flo was getting up to walk away. Was it the tone of expectancy? Was it that he always made his own breakfast? Was I just tired? 

"Sure," I grumbled. 

As the days wore on, Flo visited less and less frequently. Last night, my husband said, "You're not sweet to me anymore." Was the "anymore" referring to just after surgery? The beginning of our marriage? 

He was right. Florence has left and makes infrequent visits here. Everyone is independent and Flo isn't needed. But sometimes we could use a visit. 

Ruminating

Sometimes I hesitate to jump on the band wagon. I often slow down before jumping in to something, whether it is a new curriculum or a commitment to volunteering. I need to consider if it either fits in to what I know and believe, or if I can sustain the commitment. Too many times I have committed to things that I can't sustain, and it never feels good to back out.

So, before signing on to something, I ruminate over it: Does this jive with what I know and believe? Does this fit with who I am as a person or who I want to be? Will this end up being the "one more thing," or will this be time well spent?

For years I had wanted to be part of a book club, but the commitment to reading (an adult) book every month, and giving up an evening a month, was more than I thought I could manage. Where did the book club fall on the scale of "time value"? I finally joined one last year, as time opened up with my kids now grown. I have found that the friends in the club bring breadth to my world, and the reading the same. I was late to the game, but it was worth jumping in.

The SOL March commitment was similar for me. I was interested in writing daily, since I consider myself a perpetual fledgling writer, but I was reluctant to commit to managing the posts, and writing daily, and publicly.

The tipping point to committing was when I read some posts of colleagues and realized that this was truly a community. Writing daily for an audience does fit in with who I want to be and who I am as a person. I am confident it will be time well spent. I am looking forward to the commitment, and to growing through it.