*Republished from the September 2015 issue of The Kayseean
By Ellen M. Myatt
Let’s face it – bad news means different things to us at different times in our lives. An unsatisfactory grade on scholastic work can drop a grade point average. News that our role
in an organization is being downsized risks the quality of life we value. News about a loved-one diagnosed with a disease – potentially fatal or not – causes grave concern.
As for me, learning I had to have heart surgery this summer made me wonder, initially, about the risks and potential outcomes.
Despite these concerns, something wonderful unfolded in more ways than I can describe. Grace abounded. I did not realize it fully at the time, yet I witnessed it as the weeks of recovery moved forward.
Frankly, there are times when the concept of grace seems abstract to me, particularly in times of difficulty. However, I realize now that I need to simply remember it as the “unmerited favor of God as manifested in the salvation of sinners and the bestowal of blessings.”
As for me, the grace of wonderful friends and caring children and grandchildren proved to be the perfect healing balm.
Week One
My eldest granddaughter came from Charlotte, NC to care for me that first critical week at home. Doggedly, she ensured that I took medications at times prescribed and that I walked as ordered by the doctor – 10 minutes a day, six times per day. It was hard for me, at first, to be comfortable with her preparing meals for me, serving me, cleaning me, dressing me, and getting those awful-looking compression socks pulled over my feet and up my legs. Her demeanor and grace soon put me at ease.
“You would do the same for me, grandma,” she chuckled as she fought with the socks. “Enjoy it, because once you recover you are on your own again.”
During this week, friends brought food. Another friend purchased a comfortable recliner for me to sleep in, as a bed was nearly impossible to use.
Week Two
My eldest daughter came from Wilmington, NC, with my 10-year old grandson. It was the first free week on their schedule in months – I’m sure divinely arranged! She followed the ground rules laid out by her daughter, but declined to take the same hardline role. That was grace of a different sort. When she pulled out of the driveway to return home, I realized it had been 30 years since we had spent a week together. With our busy lifestyles, we never again spent more than a weekend together since she left home three decades earlier.
As for me, the grace of wonderful friends and caring children and grandchildren proved to be the perfect healing balm.
– Ellen M. Myatt
Week Three
Next, I spent a week with my youngest daughter and 16-year-old granddaughter in Rogersville, TN. I prized evening walks with them. As I walked slowly down the trail behind them, they danced and sang to the tunes downloaded on their cell phones. These walks were a gift of precious time and healing. I did not want it to ever end.
Week Four
The time had come for the fourth week follow-up appointment with the cardiac surgeon and I had questions. Would the news be good or bad? Would I be released to drive and resume life as usual? Would I get to return to King to teach in time for classes to begin?
“You’re the poster child for bypass surgery,” the doctor smiled. “Your recovery is amazing.”
I smiled in return, knowing that the grace of God, family, and friends helped me through what was initially a bit of bad news.
