A few months ago, I read a book called Left Neglected by Lisa Genova. A brilliant book, pick it up if you haven’t yet read it.
Without giving too much away, Sarah, the main character in the book, deals with an injury that renders the left side of her body mostly useless. She struggles with big tasks and small tasks. Tasks as small as buttoning her shirt. During one particular getting-dressed-related struggle, her physical therapist suggests that maybe this isn’t a button-up shirt time in her life.
I’ve thought about that line so often. I’ve used it to define my own life in so many ways.
This is not a sleeping in time in my life.
It’s not a Sunday-morning-with-the-paper time.
It is not a going to the movies time, or a long-afternoon-spent-watching-bad-TV time, or a finish-a-book-in-a-week time.
It’s not a cocktail party or happy hour time.
It’s not a spontaneous travel time. It’s soon to be not an urban living time.
It’s not a workaholic time.
It’s not a focus-on-only-me time.
But it is a family time.
It’s a Sunday-morning-with-cartoons-and-breakfast time.
It’s a playground time, and a mommy-daughter ballet class time, and a read-five-books-on-the-couch-before-bedtime time.
It’s finger-painting time and a lego time.
It’s a giving-someone-else-a-bath, brushing-someone-else’s-teeth, wiping-someone-else’s-tushy time.
It’s a watching-the-world-through-they-eyes-of-a-little-one time.
It’s a focus-on-them time.
It’s not the easiest time. But for everything it is, I do love this time.