broken

My mom is in the hospital with a broken leg after a bad fall on the icy driveway last night. She needs surgery, so she'll be in the hospital at least a week. I'm anxious and worried because I can't be with her. Even if I went down to Kentucky, I'd have to take the kids, so I couldn't be any help anyway...not that my dad isn't perfectly capable of taking care of things on his own, but still. I wish I could be there. She's in a lot of pain (less now, thanks to Percoset) and I expect the mending will take a while. Good thing it wasn't her hip.

So many times in the last month I've been reminded of the mortality and fragility of our physical bodies. My brother's girlfriend is undergoing chemo for Hodgkins. A good friend my age is about to have surgery and radiation for thyroid cancer. My mom has a broken leg. I have also been reminded of the importance of community, of friends and family and even mere acquaintances being there to help out when help is needed. What I didn't realize before, though, was how important a community of people is not only to the person going through tough times, but for the people in the community as well. You see, I am feeling really helpless right now. There is always pain and suffering, but right now there is a lot of pain and suffering happening to people I am close to, and there's nothing I can do to stop it. I am not a doctor or a miracle worker. I can not stop cancer. I can not heal broken limbs. I can only make casseroles and send flowers and Sudoku books and knit blanket squares in the hope that it will somehow make a difference.

Does it really make a difference, though? How does knitting up a skein of orange cotton yarn into garter stitch blobs say to someone "I really care about you and I hope you feel better soon"? In the face of serious illness, that feels inadequate, somehow. Like maybe the reason I do these things is to make myself feel like I'm Doing Something instead of Doing Nothing.

Well. That's enough of that for now.