Dear Little Angel,
The appearance of a casted child has become an accepted common sight for our family and friends as we gather or meet in stores and buildings throughout our daily routines. The shock of the treatment plan to correct your bilateral hip dysplasia no longer brings the concerned looks, or inquisitive questioning followed by a expression of empathy. With time the sting of a two year old child who must face such a difficult journey has become some what numb to so many people in our lives including ourselves. This last weekend I had the opportunity to participate in an over-nighter over a rocky pass in the High Uinta mountains called Notch Pass. Standing at the trail head looking to the rocky peaks in the distance you can easily begin to question if you have the strength to see yourself through the planned course laid out in front of you. What use to look like such an impossible climb when standing at the base of the mountain, we soon found ourselves at what appeared to be the summit looking back at the beauty of our journey as it stretched out behind us. Sometimes it is only at these vantage points we can take the time to appreciate the climb that took place behind us finding joy in the difficult rocky path we stumbled through. Completing a little over five months of casting in four different casts, we find ourselves looking forward to what we hope is the final stages of these spica casts.
Visiting with a friend in a grocery store, the now common question of, "How much longer?" was inquired. Old enough to now understand the content of a discussion, you quickly looked to your mother for an answer to the question. "Three weeks", came the reply from your mother. Like a little mocking bird, "Three weeks!" you repeated to our friend followed by the explanation of how you will go swimming with your grandma, your grandpa, mommy and daddy once your cast comes off.
Waking in the morning the discussion from the night before was still being pondered in your mind. Although the concept of time is understood, you still lack the value of the measure of the hour. As mother walked in to find you setting in your spica chair you called out to mom, "I get my cast off in three hours, then I go swimming!"
Taking a little time in this post, I would like to thank those family and friends who have continued to help us throughout our journey traveling with us each step of the way to what we hope are the final weeks of casting as we approach what we hope is our summit. These special people continue to stop by, to call and offer service with the same conviction as we saw at the start of our journey. Thank you for celebrating our successes and sharing in our tears. We love and appreciate each of you.
|Notch Pass, High Uintas, Utah|