Whew...

I had a difficult day yesterday and I want to share about it.  Sometimes I feel like I come and blog only as my most Pollyanna self.  Ok, maybe sometimes Polly has a viscous justice card in her back pocket, but still with that bright world-view, expecting everyone else to be loving, too.  But I am not a constant happy-go-lucky person.  I go through the hills and valleys that we all do and although it's my best, most optimistic face I like to share, I feel it's important to show my humanness as well, and that was bare and raw yesterday.

I think it comes down to how I process things.  A very dear friend had to have surgery on Wednesday.  I knew about this.  I was aware of the need for the surgery.  Then I knew the date.  Not much to do, really.  In my head it amounted to: "So, they take him in, they do their thing, he's fixed up and home in a week.".  I guess that's a positive thing.  Nothing felt like an emergency and it was not.  All there was to do was to be there and ask how I could help.

The night before the surgery we gathered, friends and family, at their home.  We laughed and talked, had coffee and pie and enjoyed the company of family that goes deeper than blood.  It was a fun and up-beat gathering, planning delivery of company and real-food, laughing at stories and silliness.  I always have such deep gratitude for nights like these.  I am so grateful to be with people who are present and kind, to feel a part of a group who is so supportive and who share love so generously.

The next day involved watching Facebook, waiting for updates.  And waiting...  And waiting...  And praying for energy and for those who were waiting in the hospital.  When I went to be that night, they were still waiting.

The next morning I got up and checked- yay!!  Surgery was over, the patient was resting and all the others had finally gone home to rest.  This was the best news I had ever heard!  "They" did their thing and the thing was done and my friend was resting and safe.  Whew!

So that's when it all hit me.  That's when the tears came.  I still can't quite figure it out.  I was able to process what was going to happen mentally- ok, there is a surgery with a date and then recovery.  There is something wrong that will be fixed.  This is how it is, this is how they will fix it.  That was all easy to compute.  What was not- at the time- was the risk involved.  There wasn't a part of my mind that could even consider the idea that anything could go wrong.  It was all very simple- well, kinda simple.  In my mind it was a done deal and all was well.

So then, when it was really done, I finally fell apart.  I finally was able to look back and think of all the fear I could have had.  I finally paused and reflected on just how serious this was.  I prayed (more) for angels to come to help my friend heal and realized how weak even my prayers had been before the event.  Even in prayer, I was unable to ponder the weight of this thing.  I prayed for the patient, for the family, and for the staff.  But then, when all was over, my prayers became fierce.  When we were out of the woods enough for me to look back and see how frightening they had been, I found my will doubled-up.  I had guilt for having not felt that way before.  Why didn't I cry sooner?  What kept all these feelings at bay?  Why weren't my prayers louder, more heart-felt?

But I think I know.  I think it was a measure of self-protection and maybe even my Pollyanna holding me up. Of course everything was going to be ok and considering anything else would have been torture.   This suspension of emotion allowed me to be supportive and positive for my friend and his wife (who is one of my very best friends).  It allowed me to have that strong inner-knowing that everything would work out.  I think that, in a way, is a prayer.  In my mind and heart, I was showing the Universe that I believed, that I knew that this person would be fine and life would return to strange (being the preferred kind of normal) in no time.

So I don't know if this is a good thing or a bad thing.  I guess I don't have to assign good or bad to it.  I learned a bit about myself and I did my best to be supportive for friends who have been supportive for me.  I let my feelings out, finally, and then felt awful.  I took myself to my favorite restaurant for lunch and felt better.  Today I am just grateful.  I'm grateful for the suspension of emotion as much as for the arrival of it.