Merry One-armed Christmas!

I have a friend named Omar who paints houses. He also happens to have only one arm. He fell out of a tree when he was a child in his native Honduras, and his family didn’t have the money to have it fixed. Gangrene set in, and he had it amputated above the elbow. The first time we met him he was carrying a ladder under his left arm and a can of paint in his left hand. He wore no prosthesis where his right arm had been, but he was walking down the street smiling, as if he hadn’t a care in the world. 

I have always admired Omar for his tenacity and cheerful demeanor, but my respect for him has recently gone up several notches. Last Thursday, I fell and broke my right wrist and now have the use of only one hand. Believe me, it is a humbling experience, especially at Christmas time.

Think about it. Wrapping gifts with one hand? Very difficult. Rolling out cookie dough or pie crust? Impossible. Cutting anything harder than butter? Forget it. Writing Christmas cards? Opening jars of jelly and jam? Putting frosting on the cake? Peeling a Clementine? Cracking a walnut? Even unwrapping Christmas gifts isn’t easy. I might have started feeling sorry for myself if I didn’t have a role model like my friend, Omar the painter.

So I set about learning how to do things with my left hand. Basic hygiene was a priority.  I figured out how to put the toothpaste on the toothbrush while holding the end of the brush in my teeth. I figured out how to squirt the exact amount of shampoo on my head without looking. Writing was the next hurdle. Typing with just my left hand is slow, but I’m getting used to it, and I discovered I could write my blog using voice recognition technology on my iPad. It also helps to have an angel for a husband who is there to cook and drive me places, since I won’t be doing those things by myself for a while.

The best thing to come out of this experience is the dawning recognition of how lucky I am to be of sound mind and (somewhat) sound body at my age. I am glad I had this reminder of how quickly life can change in an instant, and the importance of so many things we take for granted. 

This Christmas, I will raise an eggnog toast with my good left hand to Omar, and to all the people who face far more serious challenges every day with more grace and dignity than I will ever have. And if you see a clumsy lady trying to shovel snow with just her left hand, that might be me.

Merry Christmas one and all!