The question asked today at church was, and the teacher was asking for our personal stories here, “What gift are you most grateful for? Not necessarily some material one.” (Making it clear that a material one would not necessarily be excluded, either; it’s the meaning of it that matters.)
What do I have to say for myself, I thought. Well now. Starting at faith and family and friends, there are so many more moments than one could ever begin to say.
I offered the story about the great surprise of my first amaryllis bulb, sent to me at my freshman college dorm just before the start of my first-ever set of finals. It was a birthday present from my dad. He had always given my mother an amaryllis for her birthday; mine is a week before hers. With that package, he was declaring me an adult now and his full faith in me and I totally bawled when I opened it.
But what I didn’t say to that teacher was, the intimacy of her question reminded me all over again of how infinitely grateful I am for the skills of the surgeons and everybody else last year.
And for the doctor who walked in my hospital room seven years ago needing terribly for me to live. And so I had to. Everything else after that only came and only will come because he cared so deeply in that moment about someone he barely knew, rather than trying to shield himself from pain when all seemed lost.
I cannot WAIT to hold my first grandson next month!