Different club

It*s a toss-up for me.  Are well-meant but awkward questions better than ignoring that something has happened... at all?  Probably the awkward questions win the toss-up, but I find I am particularly grateful to people, friends new and old, who have shared their stories of joining this different club for which there is no secret handshake.  You know who you are.  Thank you!  Your lives have been a witness for me of moving on and through.  There is a grace about the way you ask your questions.  There is grace in the way you share the answers you have found helpful.  Having such company helps me to hold on to the God who has me, indeed all of us, in His hands.

Four months ago

I joined a different club.

There is no secret handshake.

Still

It is easy to tell

Who belongs.

These are the ones who ask

How I am doing today

Not

Are you feeling any better?

These are usually the ones

Who have lived scared witless

And come out the other end.

These are the ones who have made plans

Only to have them unmade

In an instant.

I never knew the distinction was so huge

Until I joined the club.

So:

Ask me the diagnosis.

Ask me when I can drive again.

Ask me if I*m scared.

Even ask me to rate my scared-ness

On a scale of one to ten:

One being barely scared

At all.

I joined a different club

When I had the seizure. 

If you really want to know:

Most days I rank a one or two

As scaredy-cat.

Most days I know that no matter what happens

Between now and the middle of June

I will remain a member of that different club,

No secret handshake but

I know I am still held in God*s hands

No matter what happens

At all.