Three Word Wednesday: Something Will Break

Source: Lightstock.com 

At a Yellow Ribbon event, an event held for the soldiers and family members to help prepare them for a deployment, an older lady stood up and said to the spouses of the soldiers, "Ladies, something will break." She had us laughing as she told stories of appliances secretly chatting with each other over who would be the first to go while the men of the house were away.

According to this kind lady, something will break. It's not a matter of if; it's a matter of when.

When doing my thing in the kitchen these days (I'm not really sure what my thing is since I don't cook.) I'd look at my various appliances, some older than others, and have visions of them talking among each other.

My money is on the washing machine. (My washer and dryer happen to be in the kitchen...not by choice.) The machines acts possessed. When the spin cycle comes along it bounces like a mad woman (I'm gonna say she's a she). By the time she completes her cycle, she sits much further out than when she started. After every load of laundry I need to give her several pushes to put her back in her appropriate place.

Surely she will be the first to go. All the bouncing and pushing must be having a negative impact on her longevity, don't you think?

Anywho...

I've been waiting to see who would win. In the meantime, I was ready to take the pending breakdown of an appliance in stride. It would not get to this God Strong army wife! There would not be an emotional breakdown over anyone's demise.

That would be anyone's but mine!

I spent the better part of Saturday Christmas shopping. There were a few tears here and there knowing my husband will not be with us. But I have many reasons to be thankful so I kept pressing on focusing on how neither of us will celebrate alone. My boys and their ladies will be with me and my husband will have his Army family.

After shopping, I returned home eager to start decorating our home and began pulling out boxes of decorations. The boxes had all been placed in the garage with easy access by my husband before he left. He's always taking care of me.

The decorations went up, including our fake tree (I did ponder getting a real one this year). My son and his girlfriend were going to help me decorate the tree once they returned home that evening because the tree must be decorated together. Last year we also realized my son does a much better job of putting the lights on the tree.

A little clean-up would not hurt while I waited so I went to return the tree box to the garage.

And then it happened. I found out who would be the first to break. As I tumbled down the one stair to the garage...yes, a bone in my poor little foot would be the first to break. I heard the crack as I fell.

I laid there for moment and then cried out, "No God. Not me. My money was on the washer. Pick her instead."

I eventually made my way to my bed with a bag of ice in hand. Thankfully, my son arrived not too long after and he tended to his mom. We ordered pizza for dinner, I plopped myself on our comfy living room chair and we ended our evening by watching It's A Wonderful Life (decorating the tree could wait). I was handling my clumsy fall rather well, minus the quick cry out to God.

Bedtime came and all I wanted was to curl up next to husband. I cried and cried. "God, please bring him back home!" Once again, I cried myself to sleep.

I've decided there will be a Part 2 to this story. It includes a visit to the ER, doing something I now laugh at, feeling stranded, another emotional breakdown and God's amazing grace. So come back next week for the rest of the story.