I had planned on talking to you today about a woman I worked with this week. She has been suffering from a laundry-list of aches and pains that were all being tagged as a part of a condition she had in the past (it’s now in recession). The doctors said that her pain could only be treated with drugs and possibly surgery. She didn’t want to go that route, but she was in enough pain that she was thinking about it.
I rarely go along with most diagnosis when they involve joint pains. It’s not that I doubt that the person may have that condition, but I’ve found that in so many cases the muscles are overlooked. So….we worked together and it was successful. There are more painful points we need to work on, but so far so good.
As I said, I was going to go into more detail about muscle spasms and the whole pain-relief topic…and I will…next week. Meanwhile I want to share this with you so you have time to think about it over the weekend.
I’ve been doing a LOT of traveling lately (over 4000 miles since May 4th) and I’ve had the chance to visit with all of my family and a lot of friends. In fact, I’m so dizzy from all the traveling that I thought today was Thursday! Oh well!
This week One of my friends was telling me about her mom and how her mom had always waited to do the things she loved, she always had a “good” reason why she couldn’t do them right away. We got into a long discussion about the way I move around, how it both brings a lot of amazing experiences and really interesting people into my life, and how it also makes me long for more time with the people I love.
Then today I received the following lovely 2-minute story that says it all. I hope you’ll take the time to read it. What a nice thought to start the weekend:
The Daffodil Principle
Several times my daughter had telephoned to say, ‘Mother, you must come to see the daffodils before they are over.’ I wanted to go, but it was a two-hour drive from Laguna to Lake Arrowhead. ‘I will come next Tuesday’, I promised a little reluctantly on her third call.
Next Tuesday dawned cold and rainy. Still, I had promised, and reluctantly I drove there. When I finally walked into Carolyn’s house, I was welcomed by the joyful sounds of happy children. I delightedly hugged and greeted my grandchildren.
‘Forget the daffodils, Carolyn! The road is invisible in these clouds and fog, and there is nothing in the world except you and these children that I want to see badly enough to drive another inch!’
My daughter smiled calmly and said, ‘We drive in this all the time, Mother.’
‘Well, you won’t get me back on the road until it clears, and then I’m heading for home!’ I assured her.
‘But first we’re going to see the daffodils. It’s just a few blocks,’ Carolyn said. ‘I’ll drive. I’m used to this.’
‘Carolyn,’ I said sternly, ‘Please turn around.’
‘It’s all right, Mother, I promise. You will never forgive yourself if you miss this experience.’
After about twenty minutes, we turned onto a small gravel road and I saw a small church. On the far side of the church, I saw a hand lettered sign with an arrow that read, ‘ Daffodil Garden .’ We got out of the car, each took a child’s hand, and I followed Carolyn down the path. Then, as we turned a corner, I looked up and gasped. Before me lay the most glorious sight.