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12.31.2010
12.26.2010
12.13.2010
12.12.2010
12.03.2010
The Aftermath -
is never what we prepare for. This time she rebounded unlike any time in her past. All that's left are a couple of stitches that have yet to dissolve and what will be a scar that will forever remind us of things we are willing to sacrifice - things that are sacred.
Just this past week I ran into another mom in the bookstore, her son had 'The' scar. I'd never seen another person with 'The' scar before, or maybe I just never noticed until now. My oldest son saw him and was excited that this particular little champion had a trach. The amazing heart of my seven year old and the understanding that it encompasses always amazes and humbles me. I, on-the-otherhand, found myself doing the unimaginable -staring at her son - she noticed and tucked her little bird under her wing - literally out of harms way. How many times have I done the same thing? I should know better. That's when I shook myself back to reality and just said - 'We are going to have that scar'. And then I turned the stroller to face her.
Honestly - there we were, two moms with two - to be frank - physically deformed children, where just a few brief moments before another little girl in the book store - stopped - for several moments and quizzically stared at her son, and then shifted her gaze to my daughter. But together - standing there chatting - this mom and I were normal - if only to each other.
We stepped into a conversation that only two moms like us can have - both somewhat desperate - both relieved - feeling less self conscious - both clinging to the story that the other had to tell. A story that uses words like neurosurgeon and the medical jargon he enthralls, drain tubes, trachs, and seizures- IEP's, pulmonologists - cranial facial surgeons- without the recipient looking perplexed or sad. For us these are just ordinary terms for our ordinary lives.
And as for the other little boy - my son wasn't bothered by the raspy sound of his trach in need of suctioning or the deformities in his face- instead he talked to him like he was just any ordinary 5 year old, because to my son - her son was ordinary. He understands something that most adults can't imagine in their own lives. What I would give to truly know the outlook and understandings that he has of his sister's world..... a world that we call normal......
Just this past week I ran into another mom in the bookstore, her son had 'The' scar. I'd never seen another person with 'The' scar before, or maybe I just never noticed until now. My oldest son saw him and was excited that this particular little champion had a trach. The amazing heart of my seven year old and the understanding that it encompasses always amazes and humbles me. I, on-the-otherhand, found myself doing the unimaginable -staring at her son - she noticed and tucked her little bird under her wing - literally out of harms way. How many times have I done the same thing? I should know better. That's when I shook myself back to reality and just said - 'We are going to have that scar'. And then I turned the stroller to face her.
Honestly - there we were, two moms with two - to be frank - physically deformed children, where just a few brief moments before another little girl in the book store - stopped - for several moments and quizzically stared at her son, and then shifted her gaze to my daughter. But together - standing there chatting - this mom and I were normal - if only to each other.
We stepped into a conversation that only two moms like us can have - both somewhat desperate - both relieved - feeling less self conscious - both clinging to the story that the other had to tell. A story that uses words like neurosurgeon and the medical jargon he enthralls, drain tubes, trachs, and seizures- IEP's, pulmonologists - cranial facial surgeons- without the recipient looking perplexed or sad. For us these are just ordinary terms for our ordinary lives.
And as for the other little boy - my son wasn't bothered by the raspy sound of his trach in need of suctioning or the deformities in his face- instead he talked to him like he was just any ordinary 5 year old, because to my son - her son was ordinary. He understands something that most adults can't imagine in their own lives. What I would give to truly know the outlook and understandings that he has of his sister's world..... a world that we call normal......
and only she knows.....as the perfect place...in the aftermath of life
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