Monday, January 24, 2011

I believe in Angels


I don’t believe in fairies.
You know, the pretty pixie looking things with large wings and fairy dust.

However, I do believe in angels.
I believe that they come in all sizes, both human and heavenly. 

They surround me when I am in my deepest need, and because I am who I am-destined for a disaster.
It is reassuring that someone’s looking out for me, when I’m oblivious to the world.
I’m not Gumby.

They are with me when I’m on the go, and I’m on the go, all the time.
My angels get me there and back in one piece.

Sometimes I am the angel for another. 
Ok, I’m stretching it, but taking my 91 year old mother to a doctor can qualify as angelic.  

First, it takes advanced planning to have her ready 30 minutes before the appointment, to get her into the car, make her comfortable and securely fastened in.  
Next, the walker or wheel chair must be properly stowed (this is the Flight Attendant mode), then maneuver traffic while giving sightseeing information and arrive at the destination in one piece, on time.
These procedures take place if things go well, but rarely don’t.

Before Christmas, I had to take Mother to her GI doctor.  
She got into the front seat, and her caregiver shoved the wheelchair in the back of my minivan, smushing the presents in the back, wedging it upright so that it obstructed my view and then slammed the hatch- I thought the handles were going through the glass.

We proceeded down the driveway to the stop sign, and the wheelchair shifted.  I got out of the car to rearrange it.  Mother wanted to help…

Traffic was horrendous and I had five minutes to get there.   
The scenery went by in a blur.

We arrive at the doctor’s office, and I leapt from the car to tell the receptionist we had arrived-door left open.  Mother thought she needed to follow me, and I caught her getting out of the car, just as I came back.  
She was wheeled into the office, and finally I could catch my breath.

The appointment went well and we reversed our steps to go back home. 

On the way, I decided to call Scott and ask him about dinner.  I reached in my purse for the cell phone and couldn’t find it.  

There are several things I need: a car, a refrigerator and microwave, a bathroom, my recliner, the computer and my cell phone.  
I can actually live without the recliner, but I’m attached to it.  
Panic struck.

What if I had to remember the 783 phone numbers and lost the gazillion photos? 

I summarized that I left it at the doctor’s office, so I made a U-turn.

By this time, it was dark, and I pulled into my original parking space.  
There was only one other car in the lot, 1 space away.

I leapt out again and went inside, looked everywhere but couldn’t find my cell phone.  
The receptionist called my phone number, but we didn’t hear anything.  She said she would keep dialing it.
When I went back to the car, I was astounded to hear my phone ring.
  
It was on the pavement, not 8 inches from Mother’s door. 
I had managed not to run over my cell phone! 

You might not think that was a miracle, but in my book, it had all the qualifications.


I figure that I was my mother’s angel for getting her to a doctor’s appointment, and my angel guarded my irreplaceable cell phone until I got back to retrieve it.

This was a twofer.



Have you been an angel to someone today?  I'd love to hear about it- aitken.helen@gmail.com

Don't leave home with out her...

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