This column marks my 20th year writing a weekly column in Louisiana — and I'm happy to be sharing a column that's been Acadiana-focused in Baton Rouge. That’s 1,042 columns for those keeping score at home. I am full of gratitude for the opportunity to share this space with you, gentle readers.
In the early months of writing my column, I wrote about the process my family was experiencing in our quest to adopt a baby from China. It was a long and arduous series of steps that culminated in late 2002 with our going to China and adopting the 11-month old baby girl we named Piper.
Readers from back then sometimes stop me even now to tell me they remember the column I wrote about the moment we met her in the lobby of a hotel in Nanchang, China. They too remember how when the hotel bellman handed her to me and that little baby looked at my face, which was different from every other face she had ever seen, that her chin quivered and she almost cried. I took an immediate seat in an overstuffed yellow chair and rocked her back and forth while singing “Silent Night.” She went to sleep and woke up happy two hours later — and that was almost 20 years ago.
That little baby is 20 now and a sophomore at LSU. Her sister who was 5 at the time is now 24 and is finishing her first year of graduate school in Florida.
Time marches right on down the road, doesn’t it? And there’s nothing we can do but cherish the moments we get to share with others, appreciate the beauty we find, especially in the surprising places, laugh as often as we can — because what’s the point of not laughing when we can? Laughing is so much more fun than crying, complaining or commiserating.
However, sometimes we need folks to commiserate with, don’t we?
I’ve appreciated the friends and loved ones who have commiserated with me during the past two weeks of nursing a broken leg. Living life with a broken leg has helped me realize how cocky I’ve lived most of my life — thinking I was so capable and could do most anything.
I believed myself to be empathetic and compassionate toward people with mobility issues. Ha. Ha. Ha. Ha. I knew nothing. Realizing how little I knew about mobility issues opens the gateway on how little I know about most anything.
I was speaking with a dear friend who has recently recovered from cancer and told her how much this experience has taught me about the challenges for those with mobility issues.
She said, “That’s like me with cancer. I had no idea.”
As empathetic as I thought I was toward her and others with cancer and other issues, I now realize that I know nothing.
I guess that’s the thing, isn’t it? We can’t know what we don’t know — and we need to have the humility to realize that we don’t know what it’s like to walk, or in my case, not walk, in another’s shoes.
I recognize the beauty and bounty of the support I’ve received in the past two weeks. Both of my daughters came home at different times to help me and give their dad a break. As previously mentioned last week, I have turned out to be rather high maintenance and quite particular. Definitely, I haven’t been the easiest of patients.
The arc of 20 years of writing a weekly column has come full circle. I started it with topics largely around taking care of my young daughters — and now I have the privilege to write about them taking care of me.
I believe I will recover and hope to be able to nurture and care for them and others in the not-so-distant days to come, but being at the mercy of others has been a teacher for me.
Life gives us so many opportunities to learn and grow.