It Takes A Village

The proverb "It takes a village to raise a child." gets its roots from the Igbo tribe of Nigeria.

For decades, though the context remains the same, the end part of the proverb sometimes gets dropped to expand its inclusion of friendship.

As an independent woman, even in coupledom, I've always been proactive when it came to doing things for myself.

It's difficult for me to ask for help. Especially when it comes to me to care of myself. God knows that about me and He's working on me; believe me. When I had my first brain surgery, I had everything checked off and planned out. Even getting to the hospital I had the taxi number in my contacts on my phone. (I wasn't using any of the car services at that time.) I wasn't too keen on asking someone for a ride to the hospital. It gave me major anxiety knowing I had to ask someone to come to my apartment and take care of me when I got out of the hospital. Seriously, I had so much angst about asking for help that my blood pressure would rise every time I thought about it.

This is no surprise to God, so what He did was touched the hearts of my friends, moved them into position and they offered up help before I could even ask. Things I had checked off my list for me to do were done, all by my friends. The second brain surgery, I still had anxiety, in fact the first thing I thought of when my neurosurgeon told me that the tumor had grown back was, oh crap, now I have to ask people to help. My friends once again stepped up. Though eventually I felt a bit more comfortable asking for a couple of things.

This medical happenstance hit differently. I decided to get out of my comfort zone and ask for help.

I didn't want to stay home by myself, but I didn't want to have to ask someone to stay with me. Really, I didn't want to stay here at all. Some of you may know that I have been having drama with neighbors in my apartment building and I just did not want to have to deal with them and their mess.

I was thinking about checking myself into a nice hotel. But yeah, then there's the financial angle on that. So, I stepped out of my comfort zone and asked a friend if I could recuperate at his place in Palm Springs.

I got a resounding "ABSOLUTELY!"

The perfect place to relax and recover. With friends who are my "framily". These are friends I've known for forty years. My Aunt even calls them her Palm Springs family.

They took such care of me. Their neighbors took care of me. The oh so sweet doggies even took care of me showering me with their love.

My room was so beautiful, filled with fragrant Lilies and my favorite flower, Gerber Daisies.

And that was only part of my village.

I've been experiencing such an outpouring of support that simple gratitude doesn't fully cover my emotions.

Prayers! Not only from those praying within themselves, but my friends who called me before the biopsy, before each of the procedures, and the night before my surgery, to pray for me and with me over the phone, it was so absorbing and beautiful. A friend and her mother take note of all of my appointments and procedures and call me the day/night before to pray with me.

The sista check-ins are beautiful and that's because these women are beautiful.

Friends from out of the city volunteering to drive in to spend time with me.

All the phone calls and text messages, and cards, and the loveliest of thoughtful gifts.

And the laughter! I am so grateful for the women and men in my life who call just to make me laugh!

This is the vibe of recovery and healing that we all need. No drama, no negative energy. I was surrounded by nothing but pure and honest love and care.

"Return to old watering holes for more than water; friends and dreams are there to meet you."

-African Proverb

Thank you God for taking such good care of me.

Thank you God for my village.