Feature Article
Satisfaction
D. Yamini 2010
I have often viewed myself as “the biggest chicken in the world”. I have always played it safe and have taken few risks as possible. I have always been a bit of a straight arrow; playing by the rules and fitting into some neat little box that I was expected to fit into.At about age 30, I began to really examine my life. The year was 2005, and my mother’s kidneys were failing. She had just retired the year before. Our family had already lost three members to kidney failure. A couple months after my 30th birthday, my mother began dialysis, and I was terrified. I immediately began to mourn and grieve, even though she was still here. The three before her who died of kidney failure did not survive very long after they began dialysis, so I automatically viewed my mother’s dialysis as a death sentence. For over two years, my mother took dialysis treatments without complaining, thanking and praising God for each day. She knew that she would receive a kidney transplant. She spoke her transplant and recovery into her life by saying things like, “Once I get my kidney, I am going to do this or go there.” Her outlook on her situation helped me to realize that her situation would be much different that the three before her. I wondered if she was satisfied with her life. I wondered if she had ever thought about what she would do if she could do it all over again. Looking at her strength through what was quite possibly the biggest fight of her life helped me to appreciate life even more.
On February 15, 2008, my mother got a call from the hospital saying that a match had been found. She called me at work to tell me that I had to come and get her right away; she had a kidney. When I picked her up, she looked worse than ever. It was evident that dialysis had taken its toll. She told me that right before the hospital called, she prayed and said, “Lord, please come and see about me.” He did just that. I am very thankful to say that my mother had a very successful surgery and one of the speediest recoveries the surgeon and transplant team at our hospital had ever seen. My family couldn’t have been happier. My mom continues to recover very nicely and my family and I were thankful to the doctors and all those involved with the surgery.
My examination of my own life was in overdrive. I realized that I just was not satisfied. I was working a job that I no longer liked. I had climbed the career path with the organization I worked for, but I felt trapped and unfulfilled. What I once found exciting became mundane and downright boring. The place I once enjoyed going to was the place I now dreaded. I didn’t know how to change what I was feeling. I felt ungrateful; I should be thankful to have a job in these troubling economic times. Besides, I was working for a company I had prayed would call me for an interview. When I got the job, I was so excited, so why was I feeling this way now? I felt like I owed God an apology. What was I going to do?
In between the prayers and the tears, I knew that I needed to make a move, but what would I do? I troubled my husband’s ears with it so much that he simply told me to quit my job. He felt that I bought my frustrations about my job home with me far too often. Yes, his suggestion was quite appealing, but drastic. I knew that he could support us on his salary. My husband told me that if I wanted to pursue other options, now would be the time. I had also saved my own money and started my own retirement accounts.
I tried to rationalize why quitting my job would be bad idea and why it would be a good idea. I couldn’t quit because who knows when and if I would find another job, college degree or not. Besides, it pays well and I would be a fool to leave the money behind. I could quit and pursue all my dreams like writing a book, not to mention spending more time with my husband and my mother. I had no idea what to do. I looked for other jobs, reluctantly continued to go to the job I no longer liked, and continued to pray about it. I began to expect the satisfaction I longed for.
On August 7, 2008, I received a call shortly after midnight. It was an audibly upset family member saying that my 46-year-old sister had passed away. I went numb. I rushed to the house of the family member, praying on the way there that someone had made a mistake. I had just talked to my sister about two weeks earlier to wish her a happy birthday. To my knowledge, she wasn’t even sick. I had heard my mother say that my sister had been complaining that she was having trouble breathing. I arrived to join my family and learned that my mother did not know that another one of her children was dead. My eldest sister was one of the three family members who had previously died of kidney failure. She was only thirty-one years old when she died. Now, I was the one who would have to tell our mother that another one of her children was gone.
We buried my sister on August 15, 2008, six months to the day that my mother had her life-saving kidney transplant. God sure does work in mysterious ways, I thought. My sister had lived a hard life. She didn’t take care of herself as she should have, but we were in complete shock that she had left us so soon. I never would have thought that she would leave us so young. She was trying to get her life together and we were very pleased at her progress. We learned that her death was a result of heart trouble that we believe she was unaware of. She also had fluid around her lungs. Ironically, she had an appointment to see the doctor at 8:15 am on the morning of August 7, just hours after she had passed away. I was completely baffled, but my mother stated that my sister’s time was up; God was ready for her.
We all dealt with my sister’s death differently. Everyone felt that it was time for some changes. My mother, renewed by her transplant, decided that she would live life to the fullest even more. Another family member, who I had been begging to go back to school to get her college education, did enroll in a college degree program about two weeks after my sister was buried. We all knew that taking care of ourselves was of the utmost importance and began sharing that message with the rest of our family and friends. A good diet and exercise was an absolute must. And, after years of trying to figure out what to do about my job, I went to my manager and gave my two-week notice at my job of eight years. I felt it was something that I had to do. I couldn’t let the economy, job outlook or anything else scare me from pursuing the dreams I had always envisioned. I knew that people would think I was crazy, but I didn’t care. All I could think about is my sister. I believed that if she had her life to live all over again, she would live it differently. I knew that I did not want to look back ten or twenty years from now and wonder what might have been if I only would have tried. After praying for an answer for so long, the answer was clear. God had shown me through my mother’s kidney failure and eventual transplant that He was still in control. All we had to do was trust and believe. God showed me that nothing is impossible if we believe. I thought about what God was trying to show me by my sisters’ deaths. I believed that He was showing me that everyone should strive to live their dreams. No one knows when their time will be up. Even though so much around us these days looks and feels impossible, it is only so if we believe it is. Expect good things to happen.
I am happy to say that I am working on my first novel. I understand that not everyone is able to do what I did, but I have absolutely no regrets. I have the support of my husband and my family. I am so happy to have their love and support and I am sincerely grateful. Once I started to remind myself of God’s goodness, I began to live a life where I expected His favor and blessing. That included a feeling of more satisfaction in my life. God continues to bless me and my family everyday, and I know that the best is yet to come.
D. Yamini, holds a Bachelors degree in Global Management and Communication, she is an American writer, entrepreneur, wife and mother.