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Smelling the Roses
by
Peary Perry | |
There isn’t anything like coming close to death that makes you appreciate living.
These past three weeks have been the toughest I can remember having in
my entire life. Like most of us, I’ve had surgeries over the years and have snapped
right back in a short period of time. In my earlier days I checked out of the
hospital after having my appendix removed and walked to the top of the Astrodome
because I had tickets to see Elvis. Those tickets had been hard to come by and
I wasn’t going to waste them lying in bed at home.
Fortunately for me,
these last few years have been relatively quiet and without the need for any surgery
of any kind. In spite of being too short for my weight, I manage to stay in fairly
good health and don’t have to take any medications of any sort on a regular basis.
I am very thankful for this.
As I related to you in the past couple of
columns, I had a knee operated on nearly a month ago and developed pneumonia a
couple of days later. The knee is fine, but I thought I was going to die with
the pneumonia. My heart goes out to anyone with lung problems. Thanks to the wonders
of new modern antibiotics, I think I am on the mend and will live.
But,
you know a strange thing has happened to me over the past couple of weeks. First
off I’ve watched way too many old movies and secondly, I find that I cry at the
drop of a hat. I can’t tell if this is the result of any of these seven medications
I’m on, but my wife is beginning to think I’m having a breakdown of some sort
when she walks into the room and I start bawling. What’s wrong with this picture?
Am I sick, bored or just glad to be alive?
Perhaps a combination of all
three.
I’m not sure if I know what an epiphany actually is or if I’ve
had one, but I do know a couple of things have happened to me in the past few
weeks. One, I realize how lucky I am to have a wife who cares for me and tries
to help. When I see what all she does in a day, it makes me realize how much I
take for granted and often forget to express my thanks. Being sick also gives
you time to reflect upon the people in your life. My boys are especially good
men and I’m proud of them. I’ve had to call each of them and apologize for something
I have done dumb in the past in my effort to be a parent. It makes me wish we
had a book of some kind to go by when learning how to relate to our kids as they
grow up. Parenting is a definite ‘on the job’ learning experience.
Anyway,
here I am sitting at my desk at home trying to write something that makes some
sense while I’m under the influence of modern medication. A small bird is building
a nest in a pot plant just outside my window. Throughout the afternoon, I watch
her or him (hard to tell which it is) return time after time every 45 seconds
or so with another piece of twig or string to put into place. I pause in what
I’m doing and just take the time to watch this miracle of nature. Something I’ve
missed or shrugged off for all of these years.
Another indication that
I’m not quite right is the fact that the pantry and freezer are in total disarray
and I could care less. In previous times, this would drive me nutty. Can you see
a pattern of anal behavior here? Now, it bothers me not in the least.
Gimmy cracked corn and I don’t care.
I’ve often heard that illnesses and
near death experiences make you want to look at life differently from the way
you have done so in the past. I’ve got to tell you, I believe what they say. Life
is too short to be petty, anal or mean. Like someone said years ago…’We must take
time to smell the roses.”
Truer words were never spoken. |
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