As one who has made their life and living by feeling everything, it was more than unsettling to see my right arm just dangling. The surgeon said it would take about 8 hours for my arm to wake up. They placed this fingered block of wood into a sling and sent me home from the hospital. I kept reaching for it with my left hand to make sure it was there. Dominique assured me that it would come back to life. He urged me not to be in a hurry. It will be painful, he said. It may sound crazy, but I needed to feel a little bit of that pain. As I’ve written before patience is a virtue it’s just not one of mine. So I waited and I waited. Was that a twinge? Wake up! And then my thumb moved a little. Is that my elbow? I wiggled my shoulder. I stared it. Dared it. Just as promised, it took the full eight hours, but it came back to life. It was mine again. I welcomed it back, pain and all.
I suppose it’s the same with the heart. Love will break you at times, but I always want to feel it. All of it. Even missing someone— that glorious ache—I welcome it. It’s only love. It lets me know I’m alive.
I wondered if I could write today. As I type to you slowly, I am assured that it has never come from my hand, only my heart. Can you feel it?
