Light at the End of the Tunnel

Yesterday morning I noticed there was no pain when I put full weight on my foot, nor did I have to elevate it off and on to keep the swelling down.  That was good news on a sunny, but frigid, day in January when my plans included a country ride with my girlfriends, Nancy and Cindy, for a photo shoot and hot soup afterwards.

I felt confident enough to leave my scooter at home.  That freedom led me to think about how it will feel next week when my cast is removed and I slide my bare foot between the sheets at night. I imagined a long shower with no plastic bag on my leg.  Just thinking of these simple pleasures made me giddy.  Note to self:  make an appointment for a pedicure, buy an exfoliant to smooth the scaly leg, shop around for shoes.  I began to hope for a bike ride on a mild day in February before I repeat surgery on the other foot.  It made my face smile all day long — even later when I lay on the couch elevating the foot that swelled after all that fun.  I could see the proverbial “light at the end of the tunnel.”

I woke up with a happy-for-no-particular-reason feeling. Contented.  Did you ever notice how a mood can spill over and color the day?  How anger can lead to more anger;  how despair breeds despair, how sadness can be a downward spiral?  Likewise, hope begets hope.

I poured my coffee and lit a candle for my morning routine at sunrise.  The metaphor seems obvious.IMG_6271

2 thoughts on “Light at the End of the Tunnel

  1. I was thinking of you this weekend when Don had made us some spinach artichoke dip. Reminded me of a time we’d gone on a bike ride with you and crew. It was a mild but not very mild, very early spring Sunday I believe. Might have even been February. We did the Iowa hills, me falling behind as usual and you sticking fairly nearby. I noticed all the salt still on the road, looking like gems in the odd low sunshine. Don had carefully packed up some spinach artichoke dip to share on that chilly day and it was JUST the thing, a lovely surprise toward the end of a cold hard ride. I was thinking “There will be no ride like that for her this year.” So when you mentioned your hopes for a mild day in February, I couldn’t help but get excited for you, and hope for exactly that. A mild day or a few in February, a quickly gathered bike ride, some Iowa hills, and something warm at the end. Good for body and soul. I am keeping my fingers crossed.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. That was a LOVELY ride, and Don’s treat in the middle was extra special. The planning that must have gone into bringing a warm snack on a cold day! What a surprise. Thanks for the memory and the good wishes.


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