It Was Spectacular

I had to stop for a moment yesterday at this spot in the alley next to the building where I would be spending the afternoon as Husband's office intern. It was the very same spot I had stopped exactly one year earlier when I realized I could not catch enough breath to walk the next few hundred feet to the office door.

I didn't know it at the time, but I was dying.

My grammar geek friends (Hi there, both of you!) will recognize that verb tense as "past continuous"--I was in in the process of dying, but I had not actually completed the action. Exactly one year later I realize how many miracles were involved in the interruption of that continuum.

There were the people in my path: My primary care physician and his staff, who realized that what I thought were left-over cold symptoms were actually a heart attack in progress, and personally drove me to the Small Town emergency room. The ER doctor and staff who, God bless  them, did not blame the extra pounds I was packing and confirm that diagnosis but sent me for a lung scan that showed multiple blood clots in both lungs. The ambulance drivers, and the intensive care personnel in Big City Hospital who were able to be simultaneously warm-hearted and cool-headed.

But there were also the miracles that didn't show: My Bible study friend who woke suddenly in  the middle of the night before this happened, and felt urgently compelled to pray for me--"I didn't know why, I just saw your name as if it were written in the air and knew you were in trouble." The skyrocketing blood pressure that dropped during the ambulance ride, at the exact moment one of my oldest and dearest friends learned I was in that ambulance, and began her own prayers.

All of these big and little miracles meant that yesterday I celebrated what I've been calling  my bonus year.  And oh, what a year it has been.

I have seen, really seen, the moments that make my life so rich, and they are too many to count.

The way Husband pampers me, and puts what I want before what he wants every single time. Every. Single. Time. (Well, except when it comes to the choice between watching The Great  Escape  for the umpteenth time or watching one of my British procedurals, but we'll give him this one.)

The embarrassed look on the face of Wagner, Boy#1 and Lovely Girl's dog, when they dress him for holidays, and their delighted laughter at his chagrin.

Another cherished Lovely Girl joining the family.

The text from Boy#3 yesterday after this music teacher saw some of his own students in concert--"One of the kids was accompanied by his mom, which brought back some of my fondest memories of high school."

Knowing that all four Boys are graduated and settled into jobs they enjoy and are challenged by.

The trip with my father to the Senior Olympics in  South Dakota, where I cheered as he won medals and held his hands while he said grace.

Our new bathroom, which at last count has been toured by 32 persons who are not related to us.

My new gigs as a middle school accompanist where I have learned to love these quirky transitionals even as I roll my eyes at some of their choices, and as a dissertation editor where I see students in the final triumphant phase of their educational process.

Family. Friends (including the ones in  my computer). British procedurals. A Gentleman in Moscow. Knitting. Xarelto, the blood thinner that almost certainly will keep my clotting issues at bay. A new pie crust recipe. Indian food in the Instant Pot.

So many large and small joys and miracles that have delighted and blessed me, and that I may not have even noticed in other years.

A year ago, "was dying" did not become "died," and I am so, so thankful for this pause in conjugation. I am trusting that this will not be my only bonus year, but if it is, I will have had more than I thought I would as I stood in that alley. It was more than I deserve.

It was spectacular.