The Christmas Socks. No, not the “Christmas Shoes”

Twenty-one pairs of hspital socks

Twenty-one pairs of hospital socks

For the full year before my liver transplant, going two weeks without being hospitalized was a rarity. After my fourth admission, I started collecting my hospital socks. I got a new pair approximately once every six days. I collected a pile. Being a little, um, different, I gave those socks as gifts this Christmas (washed, of course) with this heartfelt poem. My apologies to Dr. Seuss…

The Christmas Socks
by Scott Linscott …

Here’s your gift, I hope you’ll see
Gross old socks for you, from me.
“What the heck?” I’m sure you said,
but you won’t slip, fall on your head.
For if you wear them you’ll be well
But still you’re saying, “What the … heck?”
21 pairs I had in a pile
Yet none of them can make me smile.
I hate these socks! I hate them so!
I yell at them, “You all must go!”
So here they are, wrapped up for you
With these instructions for what to do.
You know me well, I am a giver
But this was the year, I got a liver.
These socks I wore in hospital halls,
To keep me upright preventing falls.
I got a pair each time with nurses
caring for me, my liver curses.
21 pairs from far too many stays,
when things got bad I numbered my days.
But thankfully, God said, “It’s not your time.”
So I’m giving these socks with this little rhyme.
So take them and burn them, rip them to shreds
Or wear them, reminded that I am not dead.
Toss them, throw them, play with the dog
With 21 pairs I’m such a sock hog.
These socks of mine have no use for me
I’ve got my new liver, I’m glad as can be.
These nasty old socks I’m giving to you.
You pushed me on. You made me like new.
You prayed, you helped, you reached me each day.
You pushed me onward with the words you did say.
I don’t need these socks, I’m doing so great
Our God spared my life, I lost all that weight.
I’m thankful for all and I love my new liver.
I’m thankful for you, you are such a giver.
You gave me your love, a push and your care,
I’ve got nothing to give but old socks to wear.
And now it’s time, for this poet shlub
to thank you and say, “It’s you that I love.”

About Scott Linscott

Living life to the fullest, walking in the dust of my Rabbi, creating art through photography and written word, speaking words of hope and encouragement at conferences, workshops, church and civic gatherings.
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4 Responses to The Christmas Socks. No, not the “Christmas Shoes”

  1. Kathleen says:

    Such a wit you are… the poem is wonderful and I am sure that your family loved your gifts… I am sure the one thing they wanted for Christmas was you… all pink and healthy and coming along just fine. I still think you should have a bow on your head for you are the gift that keeps on giving… Sending you and your amazing family hugs and love and glad tidings for a Christmas that holds more meaning to you than ever before. God Bless you Scott for sharing the journey with us.. Your trials and triumphs have been an inspiration … and I’m just so darn happy for your happy ending… (to be continued…LOL)

  2. Debbie Wenzel says:

    Brilliant!!!

  3. gina says:

    I collected my moms too, they r great for dusting. Blessings

  4. Wendy says:

    WOW! I’ll never look at my hospital socks the same way again. They are now going to be a reminder of God’s grace and mercy through some very hard times.

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