Tonight's post is one that needs two disclaimers: 1) my apologies to my guy readers, my opening story is about childbirth, and 2) I highly recommend that my gal readers grab some tissues for what you'll see at the end of this post ... no scrolling ahead, by the way.
Giving birth to a child ... or in my case, children ... is truly one of the most amazing times in a woman's life. Just ask any mom, and she'll tell you that even if she endured a 5-day labor and an incredibly difficult delivery, she'd do it all again in a heartbeat for the joy of being a mom. I was pretty lucky with my own three childbirth experiences ... no horrendously long labors or complicated deliveries and relatively quick recovery times. Well, wait ... there was Brad ... my middle kiddo who quite literally came bursting into the world a short 10 minutes after I arrived at the hospital. Bradley's quick appearance meant that the doctor wasn't even in the room for his birth ... nope, no doctor to ... ummm ... well ... ummm ... no doctor to help a momma out. In the days following my "we don't need a doctor here, Mom" son's grand entrance, I hurt ... I hurt a whole heck of a lot.
Back in those days, new moms and babies actually stayed in the hospital for several days ... it was unheard of to send them home the day following the birth. Which was a good thing for me after Bradley was born, because I was in so much pain. Did I mention how badly I hurt after my second son arrived? Just in case you missed it ... I hurt ... I hurt a whole, whole, whole heck of a lot after Brad's birth. I will never ever forget one night when my friend Karen came to visit me in the hospital, and neither will she, of that I can assure you. The doctor had prescribed this special spray to help ease my pain ... ummm ... well ... ummm ... my pain in a certain area. The problem was that I was in so much pain I couldn't manage to actually spray myself ... so much pain that I asked my poor friend Karen to spray me. And God love her heart ... she actually did it. Yep, after Bradley was born, my awesome friend Karen closed her eyes and sprayed the medicine on my crotch. Now that's a friend ... that's a real, true, devoted friend who will do that for someone ... I'm beyond certain that crotch spraying is way above and beyond the call of duty when it comes to friendship.
Perhaps because I've written about my penchant for late-night YouTube viewing when I can't sleep, lots of people send me links to all kinds of videos. I don't watch them all (sorry!), but I do watch quite a few of them. And every once in a while, one comes along that speaks to me in a deep and meaningful way about who I am as a person ... as a mom ... as a sister ... as a grandmother ... as a friend. And last night I watched one of those ... one of those videos that left me questioning myself as to whether I really would do anything for those I love. Would I really do anything and everything I could to show them how much I love them? Would I really find tangible, meaningful ways to let them know I'm with them through good times and bad? Am I that kind of person? That kind of mom? That kind of sister? That kind of grandmother? That kind of friend? Would I do something drastic ... something radical ... something way, way, way out of my comfort zone? Would I do anything for love?
Would I do for those whom I dearly love what these friends did for a friend they dearly love? Would those who love me do this for me? Would I do anything for love? Would you?
Watch the video. Really. Seriously. Click here and watch it.
No comments:
Post a Comment