And Poof...December 1, 2021

I look around the clinic's waiting room, where people with every sort of "disability" go for care. They call it Courage Kenny Rehabilitation Institute, a fitting name.

Because change takes a mighty courage from us, from time to time, from here to there. And I want to drive again, so I need to be there.

But I used to work in such a place, long ago and far away. As a caseworker I developed smart plans for 35 or so dear people's lives, along with teams of smart professionals.

Today I limp in, with most around moving quicker. The Occupational Therapist pulls out cognitive tests to my nervous giggle. On the road, she asks if I am ready for the freeway. I gulp hard, hoping my left foot remembers its new job with the gas pedal and brake.

And poof, what had been is no more.

After the appointment, Peter and I stop by Starbucks. The one I sat in pre-pandemic tumor times with people like Lolly, an older woman I now call every couple weeks. We say "I love you", vowing to return to Starbucks, but not yet. Waiting for Peter today, I sit in the car with my too curly hair and pair of crutches, looking in the window.

And poof, what had been is no more.

So I turn to music, Africa by Weezer. My mind spills into the memory of when Ben cried those years ago. We had returned home without Evan, the new college freshman. As Africa came on the radio, Ben burst into tears to hear his big bro's fave song. And I gosh darn mist up today, with both sons having take leave of our home, once again, for the hundredth time it seems.

Yes, poof, what had been is no more.

But in all this smoke and mirrors and roundabouts, our universe offers its extravagant imagination to spin new tales. And Ferris Bueller is spot on right, even when it gets tough sometimes. Really tough. If we don't take a minute to look around, we might miss these twists and turns with peril, but beauty too.

So Jennifer, my Occupational Therapist, laughs with me as we take a lurch through the parking lot.

And what had been is no more. I am not the woman who has no idea how she will drive again...I am the one who will drive again soon.

Just in a different way than before something went poof.