I’m not a particularly organized person, but I generally have some sort of plan. And while the plan may change a bit along the way, I can usually keep things on track fairly well as long as I show a little leniency for minor setbacks. But sometimes, all of the careful planning in the world doesn’t make a journey any easier or prevent much larger setbacks.
Last Sunday, I whipped out the bleach and the mop and I cleaned my home from top to bottom, preparing for surgery on July 16. I scrubbed corners of floors, I dusted china, I organized books, I even de-cluttered the front of my fridge by clearing off old photos and drawings from my son (and for those who really know me, you know…I reeeaaalllly don’t like to clean, so this was a massive time investment). But it was part of my plan. My plan to get all of my ducks in a row so I could recover with no stress and no worries on my mind.
The next morning, at 7:53 am, my condo caught on fire. Actually, half the building caught on fire, and within minutes my entire home was gone. So much for cleaning.
Thankfully, my son and I got out quickly and were not hurt. But our home, and everything in it, was ruined. For about an hour I stood stunned, watching the events unfolding and figuring that with everything I’d have to deal with for the next few months, I’d have to cancel my surgery.
As the day progressed, and facts poured in (along with hundreds of calls, texts, visits and emails from friends and family), I realized that canceling my surgery wouldn’t bring my home back. Nothing would. Canceling actually wouldn’t gain me anything. Everything is set, ready to go. Plans have been made for my son to be with his father for a week in Chicago; plans have been made for my mother to help me in recovery–plans that could take up to another year to come together again. I figure, if I cancel, then not only do I have to deal with the loss of a home, but I have to deal with the loss of a dream as well. Fire took my home, but fire can’t take this from me, too.
In truth, there’s never a good time to something like this. Almost like planning to have a child, when you plan a cosmetic procedure, you do it knowing that there is always something that could stand in the way. But if you let every setback stop you from doing the positive things, what is there to enjoy? If there’s anything I’ve learned, it’s that life can change in the blink of an eye. There’s no point in putting off the good stuff, waiting for the perfect moment. The only perfect moment is now.
Posted by: Rhonda Shrum