Okay Google – What is that poem that goes, something like…
This is how I’ve spent my morning. I’ve been looking through the inter-web for a particular poem about time. I can’t find it and the Google isn’t helping me.

It’s the poem or saying that says something like:
Time passes quickly when we kiss, and moves slowly when we grieve.

You know… do something fun, that you enjoy, and… ZOOM…. all of a sudden, it’s the next day. Struggle and sweat the small stuff and oh my gawd, can this day get any longer!

I speak for the royal we, when I say, Ken and I continue to have no sense of time.

I know, from the years I’ve spent in recovery, and from the 10,000 lessons I’ve taken and taught, that we can only measure our progress, by looking back.

We move forward by doing the next right thing.

On a daily basis, Ken and I need to remind ourselves, we are right on schedule.

Was it really only two weeks ago, that Ken, Cathy and I drove up to Madeira Park, and Ken got the call of a cancellation, and his surgery date was moved up by a month!

Two weeks ago, to this day, I was driving with raised shoulders, as close as I could get, to the back side of a snow plough, all the way to the ferry. I then drove all though Vancouver, and we checked in to Carey Centre at UBC!

Only two weeks ago!

I know Ken gets frustrated and is itchy to “get back at it” and I’m itchy for him as well. But, time and healing cannot be rushed.

What we can do is create the right environment for healing to happen. We continue to do the next right thing, and when there is frustration, we look back.

We are able to see how much progress has been made. We remind ourselves, time is passing,  slowly it seems, but surely.

The surgery was a success!
Cathy is long gone!
Ken is no longer on medications for pain!
He’s wearing pants! (that he put on by himself!)
My radar has been lowered.
I am sleeping without fear, in fact, we are both sleeping!
Huge progress!

The doctors said not to resume “normal” activity for 6 to 8 weeks, with no heavy lifting for at least two weeks. (They didn’t know that in those two weeks we would get 10 inches of snow, and need butt loads of firewood hauled in.)

It won’t be long now, and we will be dealing with some other drama, trauma, joy or celebration.

Progress has been made. Recovery is happening. Time is moving on. We are on the right side of healing.

I’m very proud of Ken and his strength, courage and attitude throughout this. I’m pretty proud of myself as well.

I’m just confused on the whole, what day is it, thing!