Mimi's Wishing Well

Today I want to share with you "The Miracle of the Spilled Milk." My hope is that someday when you need it you can apply this lesson in your own life. And, you won't even have to spill a glass of milk to set the miracle in motion!

During my mom's hospital stay (yes, I am still ruminating on this experience. But this isn't bad. I promise.) I came home one afternoon to try to get some much needed sleep. My efforts were futile. I was not able to sleep. Nor was I able to eat or do much of anything. My body and soul were paralyzed in shock and grief. Because of my inability to tend to my basic needs (I had not slept in more than 30 hours and my last meal was a bag of peanut M&Ms the night before), I was getting extremely weak. The only thing I knew was that I had to get back up to Milwaukee to be with Mom. And, in order to get enough strength, I had to eat something. Anything.

I tried cereal. But, I couldn't stomach that. I can't remember what else I tried. But, there was something else, I think. Finally, I decided that I could probably drink a glass of milk. So, I poured myself a glass. After a couple of sips, I placed the glass of milk on a T.V. tray.  And, as luck would have it, it spilled -- all over the T.V. tray. All over the floor. And, all over the T.V. controller.

Now, this is going to sound really crazy. But, as I sat there looking at the milk, I actually considered just leaving it. I was that drained. I figured that Charlie would clean it up when he got home. Or, the dogs would lick it up. Nothing mattered. I really didn't care.

Here is where the miracle came in. Something inside of me said, "Don't leave the milk. You have to clean it up."

Now, I don't know if you have ever realized this. But, when you are cleaning up a big mess, your mind is focused on the mess. You are not thinking about taking the kids to soccer practice, a conversation at the office, or, in my case, that the cancer we hoped was gone had metastasized to my mom's brain. For those few minutes, my mind was given a break from the horror that was consuming me. And when I finished the job, I felt better. I don't know if it was the slight physical activity that improved my state. Or, the brief respite from the pain. But, I actually felt better. Moreover, I immediately attributed the improvement to the simple act of cleaning up the spilled milk.

This realization inspired me just enough to formulate a plan. If I could drink some milk, I could drink an energy shake. I also knew that the more I did, the better I would feel. So, I pulled myself together, drove to the store, bought some Ensure, and was on my way back to Milwaukee. This may seem trivial. But, to me it was nothing short of miraculous. Not only did the spilled milk give me enough strength to get off the couch, it ultimately brought me  to where I was most needed — at my mom's side.

So, here is the lesson. If you are ever feeling so low that you don't think you can go on, do something. Do anything. Move your body. The slightest change can make just enough difference so that you can move on to the next step.

PS: Before I left for home that day, Mom had been sleeping well, ate a great breakfast, and was preparing to polish off a lunch of turkey, mashed potatoes, and gravy. If she isn't an inspiration, I don't know what is!