Blessings Friday: Celebrate Life

My husband and I are greatly appreciative of all the comments you’ve left for us—your thoughts, prayers, and kindness this past week have lifted our hearts and spirits. Thank you, dear Kristie, for letting everyone know.

My husband’s lung collapsed in the middle of the night last week. At the emergency room, the doctors inserted a chest tube while I tightly held his hand. There were some difficulties over the next couple of days getting his lung to inflate and stay where it should be. Although he has some residual problems, the emergency is over and my beloved husband is home again.

The night of his emergency, I had just finished reading The Lace Reader: A Novel. Before bed, I set aside the things I’d need to try knitting a lace towel edging which I planned to begin after my morning housework. Instead, it’s one of the things I grabbed on the way to the hospital emergency room.

While my husband was getting various CT scans and other assorted tests/treatments performed, I tried to knit my lace to occupy myself. At first I couldn’t remember how to cast on, then I couldn’t remember what YO meant, and every stitch was a challenge in concentration. I started and stopped my lace making over and over again. Each failure ending up in the hospital’s trash can. Why is this so hard, I kept asking myself?

And then I remembered what I read in The Lace Reader: A Novel, lace is an echo of life: past, present, future. Maybe I was experiencing all these simultaneously in my terror over what was happening to my husband. Maybe, like him, I just needed to breathe.

I took a deep, cleaning and calming breath and began again. Each stitch became easier and when mistakes appeared, I just kept going. Mistakes are part of life. Dub’s lung collapsing is a mistake, too. A lace pattern slowly emerged, small but something I could see—something I could count on, each lacy hole a breath my husband was taking to live and one I was echoing.


© June Scroggin, All Rights Reserved

My result is a tiny piece of lace which may never be finished. The mistakes in it are important and meant to be, I think. I may save this tiny piece as a reminder of the importance of breathing.


© June Scroggin, All Rights Reserved

Today I celebrate each breathe we take: mine, my husband’s, and yours. May the lace of your life always have space for breathing.