There’s nothing like being flat on your back with the flu a couple days to gain a little perspective.
This time last week, I had high house standards. You know, all the beds made. Tables clean and clear. No dirty dishes sitting in the sink. A bright, cheery house. But that was last week. When the luxury of a spotless house was a high priority …
This week, I am grateful for an unmade bed in which to lay my tired body. Who cares about the table? And the dishes … whatever.
But what brings me close to tears (perhaps a tad emotional from watching AMC endlessly) is my dear, sweet family in the midst of influenza A …
- My husband. This man literally pulled me out of bed and insisted I see a doctor. He drove me there in his car (which is now a mobile incubator of influenza A …) and then got all the meds and oj a sick girl could want.
- My children. Dear ones. Though they know they live in an infected house with an influenza A mother, they still continue to share space and words. Mom … are you okay? Can I get you anything? They never made me wear a mask. And I tell you this with great pride, my little one has now taken to spraying down surfaces with Lysol regularly.
- My parents. They called and emailed. And emailed and called. The only two people on the planet who would willingly walk into my house with full knowledge they would contract the flu just to bring me a bowl of soup. (I did not let them come. They are still safe.)
I guess the point of this rambling, Motrin induced post is
… a spotless house is a luxury. I want to remember that and not expect it, especially where people actually live.
… good health is abundance. I must remember that and not take it for granted when influenza A is far away.
… but most of all, my family is pure extravagance. A deep, rich kind of wealth only God could give. Oh dear Lord, I am so thankful.
Ohhh, I feel better. Now back to my AMC addiction.