Recalled to life

Pulling out of UT Hospital's parking lot this morning, I couldn't help but think back to 10th grade English class -- particularly the note Jarvis Lorry receives in the beginning pages of Dickens' "A Tale of Two Cities."

RECALLED TO LIFE.

What a time. These past five weeks have been -- well, there's no other way to say it -- pure hell. But this, too, shall pass. And pass, it finally did, last night.

I drove toward Halls in the sunshine of the early morning, not feeling any pain for the first time in weeks. I came to work. I sat at my desk. I resumed planning the week.

It's the little things you miss.

Perspective though, yesterday. Waiting for the CT scan, I chatted with a friendly woman with short black hair. She's a breast cancer survivor. Her scan was for peace of mind.

Kind of puts kidney stones in its place, huh?

Had something else funny happen yesterday. Sitting in the admissions room, an older man came forward and stuck out his hand.

"Mr. Mabe?"


"Yes?"

"You don't know me, but I just wanted to tell you how much I enjoy your writing. My wife and I used to live in Halls. We have someone save us your paper every week. I just wanted to tell you how great a job you do."

I managed a "thank you." But I couldn't believe it. I'd never seen this man before. He has no idea, though, how much his words meant.

And so here I sit, back in the saddle again, doing what I love and loving what I do. What a life.


Life.

Isn't that a great word?