Waffle House and Wellbeing

This is Peter Rosenberger and this is your caregiver minute. From extended hospital stays surrounded by faceless people in masks to longer nights where loneliness and fear serve as companions, caregivers remain prone to feeling adrift and disconnected. Longing for recognizable landmarks that signal safe harbor, caregivers face the challenge of re-anchoring themselves often in a storm.

But it doesn't have to be complicated. I stepped into a Waffle House near the hospital. I love Waffle House. I grew up going to Waffle House.

But there's no Waffle House near us in Montana in the whole state. While in Denver, where I knew few people, everything required learning and adjusting. But stepping into the local Waffle House, familiar sounds, sights, smells and tastes flooded over me. For a few minutes, I reconnected and felt at home.

Grabbing a takeout order, I took it to the hospital to share with Gracie. While we can't always change the disorienting circumstances we find ourselves in, we can find new ways to connect to things that settle our hearts. Sometimes, it's just as simple as a waffle. With pecans. And country music superstar Trace Atkins stated, I've always loved Waffle House. It's been like an oasis in the desert many times late at night after one of my concerts. I can't talk like Trace Atkins, that low a voice.

I've always loved Waffle House. I can't do that. But I thought that was a great quote. Some of you know the remarkable story of Peter's wife, Gracie. And recently, Peter talked to Gracie about all the wonderful things that have emerged from her difficult journey. Take a listen. Gracie, when you envisioned doing a prosthetic limb outreach, did you ever think that inmates would help you do that?

Not in a million years. When you go to the facility run by CoreCivic and you see the faces of these inmates that are working on prosthetic limbs that you have helped collect from all over the country, that you put out the plea for, and they're disassembling. You see all these legs, like what you have, your own prosthetic legs. And arms, too.

And arms. When you see all this, what does that do to you? Makes me cry.

Because I see the smiles on their faces. And I know, I know what it is to be locked someplace where you can't get out without somebody else allowing you to get out. Of course, being in the hospital so much and so long. These men are so glad that they get to be doing, as one band said, something good finally with my hands. Did you know before you became an amputee that parts of prosthetic limbs could be recycled? No, I had no idea. You know, I thought of peg leg. I thought of wooden legs. I never thought of titanium and carbon legs and flex feet and sea legs and all that.

I never thought about that. As you watch these inmates participate in something like this, knowing that they're helping other people now walk, they're providing the means for these supplies to get over there, what does that do to you, just on a heart level? I wish I could explain to the world what I see in there. And I wish that I could be able to go and say, this guy right here, he needs to go to Africa with us. I never not feel that way.

Every time, you know, you always make me have to leave, I don't want to leave them. I feel like I'm at home with them. And I feel like that we have a common bond that I would have never expected that only God could put together. Now that you've had an experience with it, what do you think of the faith-based programs that CoreCivic offers?

I think they're just absolutely awesome. And I think every prison out there should have faith-based programs like this because the return rate of the men that are involved in this particular faith-based program and other ones like it. What I want to know about this one is just an amazingly low rate compared to those who don't have them.

And I think that that says so much. That doesn't have anything to do with me. It just has something to do with God using somebody broken to help other broken people. People want to donate a used prosthetic limb, whether from a loved one who passed away or, you know, somebody who outgrew them. You've donated some of your own for them to do. How do they do that? Where do they find them? Oh, please go to standingwithhope.com slash recycle. Standingwithhope.com slash recycle. Thanks, Gracie.