So, I have always felt that high heels was a painful invention created by men. I know, I know – that isn’t fair. There are probably plenty of women footwear designers and besides, who told us to wear them anyway, right? And anyway, they weren’t THAT high…and they weren’t spiked heels. Nice wide heels that I bought for a special occasion. And they are a really good brand. And they were expensive and orthopedic and comfortable.
And you really should be careful when you dance with shoes that aren’t, well, flat. Oh, and Israeli dancing is wonderful – you kick one foot forward, you kick the other foot forward…you jump forward, you jump back…and…ouch. My ankle buckled violently to the right and for the first few minutes, I was not at all sure it wasn’t broken (I’m only mostly convinced now that it wasn’t).
So, I sprained my ankle good and well and with it, learned yet again the blessings of my sons. The wedding was wonderful. Dear friends. A beautiful bride; a handsome groom. Friends. Music. Chaim is back in Israel starting his studies. He came back last week and I’ve been so happy knowing he is close again. He is friends with the chatan (the groom); and we are friends of the bride’s family. We met Chaim in Jerusalem and drove him to the wedding. It’s so good to have him back here.
He sat next to my husband at the wedding and then I lost sight of him until it was time to sit down – then I saw he was at the next table with friends his age. After my ankle buckled, it was important for me to get away and out of sight of the other dancers. As soon as I felt I could walk, I limped painfully and slowly back to my table on the other side of the room. I wasn’t at all sure at that point that I wasn’t going to be sick to my stomach. I was so light-headed; I was shivering; and my ankle was screaming in pain.
Friends came over and were asking me if I was okay. All I wanted was for them to leave me alone so I could concentrate on not being sick and not passing out from the pain. Someone brought me a drink and despite feeling sick, I sipped slowly. Someone brought me tea – and that helped a bit. Someone brought me Tylenol and I hoped it would kick in soon. I asked someone if they could find my husband – I’m not sure what he could of done other than just be there, but they didn’t see him.
And then, suddenly, Chaim came over and saw that something was wrong. I was sitting at the table in excruciating pain with my foot up on a chair. Chaim was…Chaim. Sweet, concerned, talking in a voice that just calmed me. Everyone else’s voice bothered me while everything Chaim said made sense. They wanted me to put ice on my foot…Chaim came over and just took over. A friend and her husband tied ice around my ankle. Chaim redid that and just stuck close.
They brought dinner over and Chaim went back to his table to eat and others sat down. I couldn’t bring myself to eat. I just kept smiling when people asked if I was okay and lied through my teeth. Sure, it feels a bit better (no, it doesn’t). I’m fine (no, I’m not). Chaim came back and we all decided to leave. I told Chaim I wanted to go outside – I needed to get away from people. He wouldn’t let me go alone. He helped me walk outside, afraid that I was going to fall. My leg only buckled a bit once and I made it first to a chair outside and then up to the ramp where Lazer was bringing the car. Chaim stayed with me the whole time, helping me to get into the car.
There is an issue of not touching men to whom you are not related. I felt uncomfortable having Chaim help me. “They’ll think you’re my mother,” he said at one point. I smiled and asked him if his mother comes to live in Israel, if I’d have to give him up. His answer was, “you can have two mothers.” He was…he was Chaim. Just amazing. I felt so much better, so much calmer having him there.
Elie called just as I was getting in the car. “Tell him to help you when you get home,” Chaim said to me. I told Elie what happened and he told me to call him when I got home. As we got close, we called and he came down to help me up the stairs. Slowly, helped pull me out of the car to a standing position. He walked next to me very slowly, letting me take tiny steps. He was instructing me how to move, where to put my weight, how to hold on. He helped me to my room, brought me pain killers and water. He was wonderful…
The next day, I stayed home and worked from the dining room table. Elie helped make dinner. Aliza warmed food up for me and brought it to me.
Yesterday, I had no choice but to come to the office. Shmulik offered to drive me in and even let me off very close to the elevator so I didn’t have to walk far. Later, he picked me up mid-afternoon to take me to meet friends – parents of a wonderful young man who left his home in America to come join the Israeli army. Though the army has not really treated him fairly after a training accident left him injured, J. remains committed to Israel and has been rebuilding his health and his life here. His parents called and I wanted to meet them. Shmulik dropped me off in front of a mall and slowly I made my way to meet these special people who have become friends.
Shmulik joined us for a time and we spoke of cars and Israel, their son and mine. Finally, we took our leave and I slowly walked with Shmulik back to the car. At one point, I had to walk up about 30 stairs. From the bottom, in pain, it was a daunting sight. I leaned on Shmulik much of the way and then at the top, he took all the bags and went to get the car and drove it to the closest point possible.
He drove home and helped me up the stairs and back to my room. My ankle is swollen and there are huge black and blue marks on the side and although I can put my weight on the foot, it is still painful to walk. If I twist it at all, a shooting pain goes up my leg.
Despite this, I feel so loved by these amazing sons of mine – from Chaim at the wedding to Elie and Shmulik at home…I feel so blessed.