Lessons from a fall

Monday night I wanted to respond to one last email before heading to bed. Sitting on my soft, comfy, 5-wheeled chair I tried to roll forward, closer to the keyboard. The wheels objected, the chair toppled forward and I landed solidly on the floor — tailbone first. This irritated a previous injury caused by falling on my son’s stairs 1 1/2 years ago. Not what I would call convenient two weeks before embarking on a cross-country trip. Between now and the end of April I have 5 performances, which involve many hours of rehearsal time, sitting on a bum that hurts.

My father’s wheeled chair is now in my garage, waiting for the community garage sale. Yesterday I searched online for a replacement chair and found one that looked quite nice–sturdy with no wheels. I contacted the seller and arranged to have a look at it, and test it out. She and her husband were eager to sell it for what I considered pocket-change.

They said that they had already spent a year trying to get her parents’ house ready to put on the market. Her parents were hoarders and the house was large (over 3600 sq ft). I couldn’t help but notice how sad the wife appeared. Since I don’t them at all, I couldn’t figure out if she was sad, tired, frustrated or depressed. Whatever it was, I couldn’t stop thinking about them. The husband carried the chair out for me, and placed it in my car, thanking me for taking it.

On the drive home I mentioned to my sister (she had come along as my “guardian”, as I don’t trust everyone I meet on FB Marketplace) how this was a good lesson to take care of things while we still can, and not leave our children a mess to clean up. Their parents couldn’t throw things away, since they always expected to either find a use for them, or sell them at a huge profit. Neither day came along for those parents.

My new sturdy, shiny, clean wooden chair with bonus rubber feet sits proudly in front of my computer desk. The hard surface is much easier for my bottom than a soft cushion at this point as it takes pressure off the tender tail-bone.

I don’t know if I totally believe the statement “everything happens for a reason” but I do know that we can learn from everything that does happen to us. That split-second tumble on Monday night is causing me to rethink many priorities, and question some decisions. For example, that fancy office chair belonged to my father, but if it causes me pain I don’t need to keep it around. Yard work can wait until I am no longer in pain. Get things done while I still have the energy and the mental faculty–don’t leave it for the kids!