I'm babysitting my nieces this weekend as my sister escapes for a few days to scrapbook some event in their lives that happened oh, five or six years ago. She rarely gets the chance to go away, so these weekends are precious to her. I can't say no. Wouldn't dream of saying no. Even though her sidewalk is covered in icy patches.
Why are icy patches such a problem? Six years and eleven months ago I came to help babysit while our mom was in the hospital. Six years and eleven months ago, I fell on the ice in my sister's driveway. And my life was never the same again.
That night, it was my turn to be at the nursing home to force the staff there to make sure my mother was properly cared for before putting her to bed. If one of us wasn't there, we'd find Mom in despicable condition the next day. So, as I said, it was my turn and I didn't return to Helen's house until after midnight. Glenn, our brother, had cleared the driveway after the recent ice storm; but there was one patch of black ice left. In one more step I'd have been in the safety of the garage. I never made it. I slid on that patch and fell so hard I actually bounced a couple of times on the macadam. The pain was excruciating, and I couldn't get up. I yelled for help, but no one could hear me. Luckily, I could crawl to my cellphone. Even more luckily, it was charged so I could call for help. I refused to go to the hospital, and said we could reevaluate the next day.
There was no question the next day that I had to get checked out. Poor Helen had a choice, sit with me in the emergency room or go to my mother's hospice meeting. Of course Mom won, so she plopped me in a wheelchair and I was on my own. It was a while before I got into see a doctor. I was cheerful and joking with the nurses and the doctor until they told me my leg was broken in two places. Then I just started crying. And crying. And crying.
I ended up living at my sister's house for ten long weeks, enduring three surgeries, and extended couch rest as I was unable to put any pressure on my leg. It was my last year of teaching, and I had planned some grand end of the year activities. They never happened; but to this day I am thankful for the friends at school who took care of everything that needed to be done so I could heal.
The broken leg actually turned out to be one of those blessings in disguise you always hear about. Had I not broken my leg, I would not have been able to be with my family before, during, and after my mom passed away. Teachers cannot take off from school for long periods of time; it doesn't matter what your family crisis is. You suck it up because you have to get those kids ready for the state tests. By the time I could have applied for leave, my mother would have been gone and my sister left alone with her two young daughters to handle everything. My brother's grief made him worthless for a while. So, it was a blessing that the broken leg allowed me to be with my family when they most needed me.
Which brings me back to the beginning of this piece. I am babysitting and even though it was shoveled, there are still patches of ice on the sidewalk. After navigating my way past them once, I felt like I was home free. The girls will have friends sleep over tonight. When Helen shared the secret stash of junk food with me, I was thrilled that there'd be enough and I wouldn't have to venture out on the icy sidewalk to drive to the grocery store. And then it happened.
The oldest niece drank the last drop of milk.
So, I am leaving the safety of a carpeted house to dodge ice patches and get a gallon of lactose-free milk and more junk food. Cross your fingers that I get to the store and back unharmed. May the odds be ever in my favor.
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