After four months of physical therapy my best bud is in the home stretch of recovery from the nasty fall she took at her job. Anne underwent a pretty complicated surgery complete with all sorts of nuts and bolts. She and I will have to plan on arriving early at the airport when we travel together from now on. She is sure to set off every sort of alarm with all the metal in her ankle, but that’s not going to slow us down!

Anne has always been strong and determined. She has faithfully followed doctor’s orders and worked very hard to regain her mobility. This morning our chatter filled her sleek, black SUV as we travelled along the highway. The sun shone brightly causing us to adjust our visors frequently on our trek to one of her last therapy appointments. She will soon be released to go back to work, and this bump in the road will only be a memory as the other bumps we all encounter along life’s pathway.

I didn’t push Anne’s wheelchair or walk slowly beside her as she limped along today. But we walked in companionable silence each with a sense of relief and a quiet joy that her healing is almost complete.

People in all stages of recovery enter and exit the rehab facility as I watch from behind my computer screen. Some waddle along on crutches, and I smile encouragingly as they slowly pass. Others are wheeled in, and I think of what a long journey Anne has traveled since I awkwardly pushed her wheelchair to those early physical therapy appointments. Lately, she has been driving herself, but somehow it seemed fitting that I should travel with her this one last time.

I write in fits and starts for a couple of hours. The gentleman seated next to me wants to chat so I oblige. He is really quite interesting, and before too long we have almost raked up kin. Well, not actually, but we do know some of the same people.

When Mr. Carroll’s wife completed her therapy and he turned to wave goodbye I find myself seated alone. I had purposely chosen a seat away from the crowd so I could get some work done, but decided a long time ago to go with the flow. This morning whizzed by, in part, because I visited with the nice fellow who chose a seat next to mine.

I suddenly realize the local mall is calling my name. I have just enough time to shop for a while before returning to pick my friend up; then we’ll finish off with lunch. We are both all about the shopping and the food.

I pack my things to leave and think about the occurrences of the last few months. Anne’s healing has been painful at times, but also marvelous to watch. I take a moment to silently thank God for modern medicine, my friend’s tenacity and determination, but most of all, for the miracle of healing that comes from His hands alone.

Jan Penton Miller can be reached at lilsisjan@yahoo.com.