Nine years ago, today,
he gently wheeled me out to our waiting van
and helped me in.
I could hardly move.
Two days before a two and a half hour surgery
It was for the best.
I learned what adenomyosis meant
and how it applied to me.
Nine years later,
I haven’t forgotten.
Neither has my post-surgery body.
Today, I speak on living a life of gratitude
and how five years of counting gifts has changed me.
I will tell the funny and the successful.
I may even read a story written by my fingers on the keyboard.
Yet, there are things buried deep
that are not covered by gratitude.
Things I don’t speak of,
disappointments too great for words.
There is no thanksgiving there.
Truly, I hate what that surgery did inside and out of me
and for nine years I have despised what I was left with.
I have tried much, to little avail.
In this, gratitude is hard to come by.
The gifts are not though.
Even in the despicable, there are gifts
and perhaps the lesson has been
how to search for the treasure buried deep
and how to find grace gifts in the disappointments.
Last night, the gift was laughter with my 15-year-old
and realizing that I am loved