What Was That Noise?

I was at the physical therapist's the other day and she asked me to do a lunge in order to evaluate the progress of my knee. I did an abbreviated one and she asked: "What was that noise?" "My knee," I said. No demonstration could have given her a better idea of our lack of progress than that crunching sound. We laughed and then proceeded to design a one-month plan to do
everything possible to speed up my recovery. Kind of a one-month blast. Our optimism was so great that it cloaked the ache in my leg as I got into the car.

But this morning when I went to a lecture at my local nursery - "Planting a garden of Ferns" - I found myself standing for a long time as we watched a 60-slide presentation, then went into the plant area and identified fern samples. By the time I walked back to my car, tears were in my eyes. My knee had given up this false optimism and I was once again consumed by pain -- not a complaint just a statement of fact. On the way home, I put the car on cruise so I wouldn't have to engage that leg.

And then I reread Penny's comment -- a wonderful reminder that love and laughter are terrific tonics. So when my grandchild, Lucie, (age 5) called to tell me about her latest soccer achievement, I was relieved and delighted. She told me about kicking the ball and about what she was wearing to a lunchtime party. "Underpants," she said and laughed and laughed. I joined her because I know Luce: if she could go that way she would.

It was so good to laugh. Isn't timing everything?