My Backyard Therapy ~ a little love letter from my heart to yours

There are hours you can count and hours you can’t, the kind that fold into one another until days feel like a single long breath. I spent so many of those breaths in "Mary's Therapy Room" aka my backyard.

My chair. The sun pouring through leaves until they shimmered.A gentle breeze that made everything dance.The hum of hummingbirds squabbling over the three feeders.Blue sky that looked bigger on hard days. Hawks circling like promises.

I would sit and talk to God. Not theatrically, just honest, quiet conversations.

I told Him my fear, my stubborn hope, the little things that hurt, and the things I still wanted to do.Sometimes I prayed. Sometimes I just listened. Sometimes I yelled into the sky.

Each time I sat there, something inside shifted a hair’s width toward courage.

The Shift

Facing the possibility of an early ending changes you.

Suddenly, everyday moments feel sacred...

✨ Sunlight glowing through the trees

✨ A breeze making the leaves dance

✨ Hummingbirds fiercely protecting their place at the feeder

It was in those simple mercies that I found the strength to keep going, and they carried me until my second chance arrived.

Grounding in Mary's Therapy Room

Five Years Later

Now, as I reach five years after my procedure, I look back at that backyard and at the woman who once sat there scared, fragile, and stubborn and I can hardly recognize her now.

Not because the pain disappeared, but because she learned to fight in a smarter way.

She traded swelling for movement, fear for small steady steps, and loneliness for a voice.

I started with simple changes:

• What I put on my plate

• How I moved my body

• Who I allowed to stand beside me

  
  

Those small choices built a strong foundation. They became the reason I can stand tall today and share my story.

Turning 69

Turning 69 last week, I find it almost unbelievable that so much of my adult life has been a battle to stay here, present for my family, present for my voice, present so I could turn my pain into purpose.

If you’d told me decades ago I’d be here, writing this, I might have laughed.

But here we are. I’m here.

And in that backyard, I made a promise: if I came through, I would change, I would be worthy of the second chance, and I would leave something behind that mattered.

Basking in my second chance!

Why I Share

So I share my story not because I want sympathy, but because somebody needs to hear that the little, ordinary practices matter, in fact they are necessary.

The sun on your face matters.The breath between one worry and the next matters.The people you let in...they matter.

A Note to You

If you’re walking this path now:❤️‍🩹 Be gentle. ❤️‍🩹 Be stubborn. ❤️‍🩹Start with one small thing.

• Swap one processed snack for real food

• Walk one extra step, maybe even two

• Call one person who makes you feel seen

  
  

Tiny wins stack into something big.

Resources I Trust

• Heart Valve Voice US ~ find patient stories and support

• American College of Cardiology CardioSmart~ get clear, trusted information on heart conditions

• Your local care team ~ ask for what you need and get support in plain language

  
  

📖 Read more of my story and the lessons I’ve learned at maryburrell.com ~and if this touched you, share it with someone who needs a little backyard therapy today.

#HospiceSurvivor #PatientVoice #TrustYourDoctor #PatientAdvocacy #SelfAdvocacy #ListenToPatients #HeartBridgeCollective #Heart2HeartTalk #MentalHealth