Button, Button, Who's Got The Button?

As a child, I was fascinated with buttons.  Nearly all the older aunts and my grandmother had button jars that were full of treasures just waiting for me to find.  There were pearly buttons with "diamonds" all around that I was sure came from the dress of the queen herself.  Everyday buttons that I knew came from grandpa's worn out work shirt. Big buttons, little buttons, square buttons, round buttons, teeny, tiny baby buttons, red, blue, green, white buttons--button, button who's got the button?......so many I would spend hours separating them, sorting them, imagining them on my dresses and shirts.  At each aunts house, I had to look and see what had been added since the last time I had been there and of course I really kept on top of my grandmothers buttons.  Just the motion of running them through my fingers was joyful and calming.

My grandmother taught me button games with egg cartons that work sort of like Mancala, and she always seemed to have a button and string in her wallet.  The button was about 1 to 1 1/2 inch in diameter in which she ran string through 2 wholes.  She then tied the string and you would wind it up and pull. You knew you had done it correctly when the string pulled like elastic and the button made a whirring sound.  Oh how I loved that sound.

I guess it is no surprise that I have my own button collection that I have spent countless hours with my children running my fingers through, sorting and playing games with.  I see buttons and I sort of go crazy.  I love them almost as much as I love yarn.  There is just something about going through them that is a sort of treasure hunt and calms me after a stressful day or fills me with joy any day.  If a person came to me and with a bag of non-matching, assorted buttons---I would feel on top of the world.

Reflections of the Journey

I have been giving some thought to the progression of the difficulties that I have been going through for the past couple of months or so and the journey of overcoming them.  Here I was sitting on the precipice of a new phase in my life.  I had some health issues, but we were overcoming those.  I was ready to take my new degree and charge boldly into the world, conquering the information highway of health care records....then boom....car wreck.

During the journey of recovery, with physical therapy, occupational therapy and sensory therapy, I have become not only physically stronger, but spiritually stronger.  I have thrown my entire heart into doing my exercises daily and I am actually stronger, more balanced than I have been in years.  At the same time I have thrown my soul into prayer and the scriptures.  Truly feasting on the them in a manner that I haven't taken the time to do in many years-if ever before.  I can say that my soul delights in the scriptures. The Bible, Book of Mormon, scriptures for the next weeks Sunday School lessons and Relief Society lessons, Ensign, Friend.  I just keep on reading. They calm me and strengthen me.

I have also rediscovered my love of music.  I do not know why I allowed my life to be swallowed into silence, however music--all kinds fills me up inside in a way that is hard to describe.  When I am doing my exercises, I can do more for longer while listening to music on my MP3 player (which we keep constantly changing the play lists on) than when I just watch the others around me in the chatter of mundane things.  I close my eyes, and just work on which ever machine my PT specialist has me on...moving to the beat of whatever song is on, from Hymns to Jazz, Reggae to Rock, I have listened to it all and keep on moving.

Over-all I am a more balanced, stronger person than I was before this journey began.  I am still ready to go out and join the world of health information and health care records, but now the person they get will be a more whole person than before.  Stronger in spirit and stronger physically.  It will be good for all of us.