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One Hand Washes Another

Updated: Mar 18, 2020

When I tell people about the thoughts that run through my mind, many people may think I ‘m really crazy. But I can’t be the only person who has the same thoughts at least once in their life.


One particular thought started when I first learned how to write in cursive. Cursive, sound like you’re writing bad words, doesn’t it? Anyway, I noticed how my mom wrote with her left hand. I decided I’d try to be left handed like her. So I put the pencil in my left hand, and started to scribble my name. Each letter was a major feat. I finally finished the four letters, 'Mary'. I held the paper up, and then I heard what sounded like a million people laughing at me. The laughter turned a Voice of sarcasm. I was finally able to identify where the laughter and the Voice was coming from. The egotistical right side of my brain and my right hand, called Roosie, was laughing at my left hand, which I called Loosie.. How can this be? A part of me laughs and makes fun of me? I threw the pencil down and balled the paper up. It would be years before I would let Roosie embarrass Loosie again.


The kind of work I did was very physical and demanded a strong back, strong arms and shoulders. I worked hard for over thirty years throwing sofas around and building C17 airplanes. Roosie was the first to let me down. In 2003, I had shoulder surgery. It was pretty bad and I ended up with screws in my shoulder. The recovery took a year. Loosie worked diligently and carried Roosie’s load. Roosie was happy with the chores that Loosie learned to do, and she never complained to Loosie. Ten years later, Roosie broke down again. This is where the madness got out of hand. Roosie blamed the failure of her joints on Loosie. “Ever since I’ve known you, I’ve had to do my part and yours, too. You can’t do anything without me!”


I stopped dead in my tracks as I listened to this. The ranting and ragging continued as Loosie said nothing. “Hey, hey, now. Stop this. You can’t get anything done right without Loosie. You all need to work together. Haven’t you heard that one hand washes the other?” I said to them. Roosie was still upset because her shoulder was going to have to be replaced.


The surgery went well, but less than a year later, Loosie started hurting. She didn’t complain much because she wanted Roosie to get better. The MRI showed that Loosie was in bad shape. Two large tears, arthritis, a torn pectoral muscle and bone spurs was what she had to show for her part in the war. Roosie was quiet the next few weeks. She knew she would have to help Loosie with this new way of life. The surgery went fine, and I am healing. The process is slow, but a least the twins in my mind are not a war with each other. The pain is equally distributed between both shoulders. All is quite on the Ageing Front. 💛💛💛

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