What A Difference A Day Makes


First of all, thank you to all of you who have told me how nice my lawn looks…though that is not why I posted the picture, I have to admit it did feel good to hear it. Secondly, I would like to preface this post with a few of my thoughts in relation to what you are about to read.

I know that this is a health and wellness blog (after all I am the one who started it and who writes all the posts, remember?), but this week’s post strays slightly. Actually, I could quote studies linking friendship, loved ones and our interaction with each of them to our health and point out all the benefits they offer us by simply being in our lives…but I’m not going to.  My goal with this post is simply to make you more aware…of  your friends, your loved ones and  your blessings, things we all take for granted so easily. Okay, read on.

We’ve all heard the old addage that “bad things” come in groups of three. Check. Check. Check. It all started last Tuesday morning about 7am. My client informed me that her brother in law had been in a bad  motorcycle accident.   She went through the details of the accident and the injuries he had  sustained. He was alive, but there were some serious implications that came along with his injuries.

Hearing these kinds of stories always makes me feel ill. Of course I know that these “things” are “out there” and that people endure all kinds of troublesome situations on a daily basis, but when it happens to someone you know, or one of their loved ones, it makes ya stop and think a little more. Even though I didn’t know this person, I found myself thinking about his situation quite a bit and hoping he would come through it all in the best way possible.

Thursday morning when I met with her, she informed me that he was not doing as well as they had hoped and that she was flying down to be with and support  her family in their time of need. She had planned to be back sometime Monday and meet with me on Tuesday morning as scheduled.

Still with me? Okay, now fast  forward to Sunday. I had just finished feeding the kids breakfast and had returned upstairs to finish getting ready for church when I heard a panicked, “Mom!” followed by hysterical crying and another frantic “MOM!” (for those of you who don’t have kids, any time  a child sounds panicked or frantic…it’s NEVER good). I could tell by his voice and the fear I heard in it that whatever I was about to see was not going to be pretty. I prayed quickly that I wouldn’t find a knife, or a bone, protruding from his body and ran to meet him. His hand was all bloody and he was as pale as a ghost.

I threw my arms around him, hugged him tightly and told him I needed him to tell me what had happened. To make a long (sob filled) story short, he had been cut…and he said it was deep. I took him into the bathroom to rinse off all the blood and see what we were dealing with. He was  right, it was deep. I loaded him up and took him into the  clinic to get stitches.

After his initial assessment they determined that, though it was deep, it hadn’t been quite deep enough to sever any nerves or cut a muscle. He would be good as new after a few stitches and a week or so to heal. Time, money and tears later he was all put back together again and we were on our way. As we walked out of the clinic, the severity of just how bad “it could have been” hit me, and just half a second later it hit me how lucky he was that a few stitches was all that was needed. I was however, shaken. Strike one.

Shortly after leaving the clinic, I received a text from my client whose brother in law had been in the  accident. He had passed away earlier that morning and she wasn’t sure when she would be back.   It hit me like a ton of bricks.   I felt sadness and sympathy for her, but at the same time I felt like I’d been sucker punched. Strike two.

Less than two hours later another client texted to inform me that he had been injured and hospitalized  over the weekend and wouldn’t be able to make our morning appointment. He had planned a (as he put it) “weekend of fun that turned out  to be not so fun”. He assured me that with time, he will be fine. Strike three.

I couldn’t quit thinking about what a difference a day makes. Saturday morning when I had left the gym to start my weekend, everyone was still okay. My son wasn’t cut open and bleeding profusely, my client’s brother in law was still doing okay and my other client was setting out for a weekend of fun (little did he know…), all was well. Just 24 hours later, three people I care about had something horrible happen to they themselves or to someone they loved.

There is something to be said for living in  the moment. There is something to be said for loving those around us, those who are important to us, every second of   every day. There is something to be said for  the gratitude we feel, and have, for them in our lives. Do we tell them how much they mean to us? Do we tell them how much we love them? It can all be taken away in just a fraction of a second. Of course, we all know that…but do we truly realize and understand it?

Live each day as though it were your last, treat your loved ones like you’ll never see them again…you never know when it will be.

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