It Would Be Really Great ....

.... if you'd pray for me, Peeps.

Today was one of "those Sundays".  Those of you who are widowed know exactly what I mean.
It was a Sunday morning that I knew, from somewhere deep within me, that it was going to be a difficult morning.
And so it was.

I cried in church.
I cried in Sunday School.  Not just a ladylike weeping .... more of the ugly cry.
I hate that.

I cried on the way to the pharmacy.
I cried walking into the grocery store.
Yes, I looked nice since I had just come from church ..... but my face did not match my outfit.
I also hate that.
:)

I'm guessing that this graduation has been harder because of the day it fell on.
But I think that's only part of it.
For those of you who know me well, or who have read this blog from the beginning, you know what a huge, HUGE accomplishment this graduation was.
So it's partly that.
Maybe mostly that.
I so wanted Jim to be sitting beside me ..... or, most likely, standing on that stage as he did when Daughters #2 and 3 graduated (he was on the school board), ready to greet Son #2 with a huge hug and the diploma that we all fought so hard for.
But ..... he was not.
And yes, I like to think that he was watching anyway ..... but on this day, there's small comfort in that.

May is always a "challenging" month.

But the prayers I covet, aren't for my sadness.
I know that will go away .... most likely in an hour or two when Jim's brother and his family come over and we spend the day together.

No, the prayers are for my surgery on Friday.
More specifically, for my recuperation.

I am having a tear repaired on my rotator cuff and a bone spur removed in my right shoulder.  And anything else that needs to be "cleaned up" will be taken care of.
I am learning that this is not the piece of cake that I thought it would be.

First ..... no tennis for 12 weeks.
Need I say more?
I didn't think so.

Then, there's the amount of pain that I'm learning will most likely be more than I had anticipated.
I'm not afraid of pain.
But I'm no fan of it either.

I am also right handed.
Very, very right handed.
Meaning, that if I have to survive with only my left arm ..... I'm in a boat load of trouble.
And .... that seems to be the case.
I thought my arm would be in a sling for one day.
The day of the surgery.
The day that I would hopefully be stoned out of my mind and sleep through.

I was wrong.
My right arm will be in a sling for longer than one day.
Quite a bit longer though I'm not certain as to the exact length of time.

Each day I think of one more thing that I will not be able to do without my right arm.
Today ..... it was this:  as I was taking a shower this morning it occurred to me that I will not be able to shave under my arms for quite some time.
I should probably just go ahead and move to Madrid now.

Add that fact to the other thoughts ..... I won't be able to get dressed easily, or even quickly.  Or even slowly.  More like the pace of a sloth.
I won't be able to put on makeup.
I won't be able to put on jewelry.  I can barely clasp a bracelet onto my arm now, or a necklace around me neck .... with the use of two hands.
I won't be able to type well.
I won't be able to drive well.  No comments ..... please.
I won't be able to contain my frustration.

Silly?
Yes.
Scary?
No.
Bothersome?
Very.

But, more than any of that .... there is this one thing that keeps smacking me in the head, over and over:
I.
Am.
Alone.

Yes, I do have wonderful friends who can help me out.
Yes, my mother is near so she can come and help (though since she's spent the last few days yakking into a toilet I'm thinking I really don't want her anywhere near me.  Sorry, Mom.  You know I love you.)

I have amazing friends.  I know they will help.

But here's the thing......
At the end of the day ...... they go back to their husbands.
As they should.
And ..... I am alone.

Yes, I have 2 teenagers in the house, but they are also getting ready to celebrate the freedom of summer and they are ..... teenagers.

I.
Am.
Alone.

I do not have a man who will take care of me.
I do not have a man who will worry about me during the surgery.
I do not have a man who will miss my smiling face while I groan and complain about being in pain.
I do not have a man who will love me, even as he gently tries to tell me to stop complaining, or to stop blaming him for the pain.  Or anything else that may come out of my mouth.

I do not have a man ..... who loves me.

I do not have a man who will just .... hold me.
And oh dear God in heaven ..... I do miss that.

So I ask for your prayers.
I pray that the surgery is a success and that I can live without constant pain in my shoulder.
I pray that the pain from the surgery is manageable.
I pray that I will be able to use my right arm as soon as is medically, and sensibly possible.
I pray that I will do everything the doctor tells me to do so that my healing will be complete and sooner, rather than later.
I pray that I will be patient with myself.
I pray that I will be pain-free enough to have fun on the trip with the Daughters the next week to Kentucky (for a Christian women's conference that has long been planned and paid for), so that I won't have to be drugged up and have no memory of the weekend.

And I pray that I will rely on God enough ..... that I don't notice how alone I thought I was.

I also pray that the next time I post ..... I will sound much cheerier.

Thank you, Peeps.
I wish I could tell you how much you mean to me.
But .....
T.A.N.W.