I lie.
We knew going into all of this that there were very real possibilities of complications in this. But, we chose to not factor them in. Because who wants to plan on bad things happening? Who wants to plan their life around the possibility of bad things happening? We just spoke positively throughout, and hoped we could buck statistics. But, that nine out of ten match caught up and no matter how positive we were and are, there's realities that move on a different plain than the power of positive thinking.
I have no idea at this juncture how much longer his stay in the hospital will be. It could be weeks yet. It even could stretch to months. There's really no telling in this situation. The thing is, he's being cared for and, given our experience at home, he's happily here until it's time to go home. There's no looking at the time and pushing to go home. And in that regard, he's been so strong.
We've treated this stay a little differently. I've gone home periodically, because this is more a marathon rather than a sprint than any other time. I can't bring myself to share all the lows we've experienced. Suffice to say, we've scraped the bottom, and then gone a little lower. He and I are on the same page that I need to nestle in at home on occasion just to regroup and gird myself up for the next battle. Flexibility is key, as I've already shared the story of evacuation, and there's been times I've been home less than 24 hours because things have come up, and I just need to be by his side.
That said, home is such a beautiful respite for me. I miss him terribly and sleep on his side of the bed. I look forward to the day he can sleep there again. But I also see the gift of being home.
Home is a bit of a blur. I want to do everything at once and sometimes do nothing at all.
I've kind of fallen into a rhythm where I get all the dirty work done right away. I started mowing some more tall weeds that sprung up at 7 am on Saturday morning. I continue to cut branches up to at least 3 feet off the ground, if not higher for fire safety. Raking is a never-ending task, and I actually had an urge to rake which was stronger than my urge to chat with my mom. If you know anything about my mom, you should know she is a saint at being on the phone with me endlessly. For me to cut a conversation short because I've picked up a rake means I may be compulsive. I just want to get as much done outside as I possibly can, and then clean up and putter a little.
I've managed to keep my garden going this summer. You would laugh at my MacGyvered sprinkler system. I've scrounged up hoses that have seen better days, and I've lined up the holes to hit random plants. I hand watered everything before this situation. This year, I have a cherry tomato that survived through the winter and is bearing again now. I have an early girl bowed low with tomatoes that I can't wait to try. I have another cherry tomato plant in a large container that I kind of haphazardly placed somewhere meaning to move it to a better place. I never moved it because I think it was a happy accident. It's massive and loaded with green tomatoes that I hope will ripen up perfectly. The pumpkin patch is full of mystery squash and the lettuce has shot up. I ate a salad of lettuce and cherry tomatoes from the garden last week, and it was gratifying.
I have a patch in my back yard for my hoarding tendencies. If I think there may be a spark of life, I can't get rid of it. Dominic used to work for a company that would give away or raffle off plants that had been used as props. A great deal of my plants are from that exciting time. He brought home some tired Easter Lilies 2 years ago, and I just turned them out of the pots onto a patch of ground. *I did not even dig a hole and bury them.* Sometimes, I just want to see how badly a plant wants to live. I enjoyed one bloom in the house over the weekend, and there are several more to follow. They really wanted to live.
If those Easter lilies dumped on the ground and largely ignored can bloom, I am sure Dominic, lavished with love and careful medical attention will bloom with even more beauty and tenacity.
In some ways, it's been an incredibly lonely time. In other ways, I've had people meet me right where I am so unexpectedly. I realized the the other day, I tend to cry on the phone, and then not in person. It was odd to me, that whenever a particular friend called to check on me, I'd break down, but when I get to visit with her, no tears. I think, and I'm not sure, because this whole experience is crazy, but I think that my time with people face to face is so precious to me that I fill it talking about things that matter deeply to me. It feeds me to talk about the great mysteries of life. It also feeds me to hear about what my friends are up to, how they're doing and what challenges they may face.
I so very much appreciate my friends that have reached out to me. Here's some more heart on sleeve raw honesty....I sometimes wonder what kind of a person I am that some people have so easily walked away from me. Over analytical people like me are prone to those kinds of thoughts. There are people I thought would be more present. There are people I thought would actively reach out to me and move heaven and earth to come sit with me. To physically sit with me and just be. There are people I thought would at least check in once in a while given similar circumstances. And if I'm really tired, these thoughts get me down.
But! Even as worn out as I am, I am looking on the bright side. The bright side is, a friendship has been restored that has carried me so far through this. I'm sure people are afraid to reach out to me, but when she called me after a particularly difficult update, she waited a day because she didn't want to bother me being sure my phone must have been ringing off the hook. It hadn't been. And I am so very grateful to this friend for being so sensitive to my needs both perceived and real. She's been able to meet me in my spiritual quest for answers, and some of the best advice was the same advice given to her 10 year old son also. Sometimes, there is beauty in suffering. I am seeking and finding the beauty.
I am so grateful for the friends who have rolled with my waves. The childhood friends who heard me say I need attention, and showed up. With chocolate. The ones I know will hold me up. I am so grateful for the cousin who calls me regularly and is more like a sister. The private messages checking in on me, giving me the space to bare my soul or just go to sleep. I'm so grateful for the nurse who has seen me as more than a caregiver, but as a person worthy of getting to know, and the wonderful conversations we've had along the way. She's been such a bright spot in a difficult time.
I mentioned above, it feeds me to talk about the mysteries of life. I've been thinking about a Nouwen quote I shared on social media. He talks about how it can be hard for people to be present for another if they can't do anything anyway. I realize what Dom and I are experiencing just seems like an abyss no one knows how to even approach. Coupled with our previous need for a bit of isolation for safety precautions, it has left people hard-pressed to know how to be present for us outside of facebook. If this brings any freedom, know this: There is nothing you can do. And, don't get me wrong, many people have done amazing things. We've been generously donated to since work has been impossible, we've been given the gift of house sitting by our neighbor, we've had fields mowed and treats given. We've been given a lot. But not one of those things take away the need for medical intervention. Not one of you has the power to physically heal him. And, I hope you can find freedom in the fact that the only thing you may have to give is yourself. You needn't change anything. You needn't have the magical answers. You needn't even worry about saying the wrong thing. Presence is everything. Real presence. The ones I know I can PM and I will shortly receive an engaging response from; that is an eternal gift to me. All of your encouragements, every heart and note of love gives me the strength I need to make it another day.
No comments:
Post a Comment