Me: "Who has the best seat in the house, me or daddy?"

Adam: "Well, Daddy's is nice, but yours is best. Your's is squishier."

Wednesday, November 11, 2009

Livingroom Makeover - sponsored by Rebekah

Before:

After:


I have had the rare blessing in my life to be surrounded by amazing people. This is Rebekah. She is amazing.

This morning as I mucked through several basket loads of laundry, there came a knock at the door. It was Rebekah. Rebekah is very forgetful, and so am I. My first thought was, "Did I forget Rebekah was supposed to come today?" The next thought, "Maybe Rebekah forgot to tell me she was coming today..."

"What ya doin?" I inquired.

"I am here to help you clean. I read your blog this morning."

Rebekah always reads my blog. And she nearly always comments. I love knowing she is there. Whenever I write, I picture her there, reading on the other end, and try to say something that might be worthy of her.

I was embarrassed. These are the risks you take when blogging. Though I think I am just throwing thoughts out to the universe to be chewed upon by unknown souls, or maybe no souls at all, they actually do land sometimes, and today that landing was in the kind heart of Rebekah.

Allow me to introduce you to her, so you can love her like I do. (Are you blushing yet, Bekah?)

Rebekah is married and has two great (spunky, opinionated, super smart) little boys. She is a returned missionary. She does daycare. She works really hard and is very genuine. She is super funny and spunky (it's genetic), and never stops smiling. Compliments pour out of her like cool water from a spring. She sees the bright side. She makes me laugh, hard. I love my friend Rebekah.

Rebekah almost died before I ever got a chance to know her.


A drunk driver slammed into Rebekah while she was walking across the street, and sent her flying a huge distance. She was in a comma for a few months, and then had to re-learn every skill she had mastered during her first two years on the planet. Sitting, talking, eating, feeding and dressing herself, walking... all of it. It took a really, really long time.

If you met Rebekah today, you would never know her mortal shadow had once crossed the threshold to the next life - unless she told you so, or showed you the hole in her skull bone. Even once you get to know her, the only lingering traits that one might attribute to the severe head trauma she endured are a bit of forgetfulness (she can blame the accident, I have no excuse) and the inability to shed tears.

She doesn't make a big deal out of it (It being a major brush with death) at all. In fact, she is a real toughy. She smiles when she hears someone complaining about how hard their life is. When you have walked the road Rebekah has, there is not much that seems worth complaining about.

So you can imagine how humbled I felt when my friend turned up on my doorstep in response to my online whine-fest. We folded clothes for a long while, and laughed and talked. When she is around, my problems are still my problems, and though they don't seem small to me, they seem more manageable.

Every year, on the anniversary of her accident, Rebekah's family throws her a GYAP. A "Glad You're Alive Party". I have to agree. Rebekah, I am glad you are alive, too. Thank you for being my friend.


"A loyal friend laughs at your jokes
when they're not so good,
and sympathizes with your problems
when they're not so bad." ~Arnold H. Glasgow

2 comments:

rebekahmott said...

Yeah I am embarasssed. I am turning read as I sit here all by myself in front of a computer. I love to be around you, because you laugh at my jokes and you are a great example of helping. I love reading your blogs because it lets me know more about you and what is important to you. I am so grateful we are friends! You sure did make me blush!!

Stephanie said...

I second that, Laine! She is one of a kind!