But....
I am again, called to grieve and carry on with a friend.
This past December, Joy had to deliver some life changing news to her children. In addition, her back gave out on her and she has been coping in this life during the Christmas season with a very compromised physicality.
Without wanting to face the reality, it has been getting progressively worse and because of this, her world has been in great need. Today, her 10 year old daughter and I went out to complete the birthday shopping for the soon to be 13 year old this Saturday. Upon returning home, Joy texts me to let me know that she her leg is going numb below her knee. She calls the doctor and he orders an MRI. How do you go to an ER with 4 scared kids and tell them that Mommy needs to get an MRI....the understanding that a back needs to be fixed is the logical view, but the emotional weight of a sick parent is too much to carry on young souls.
As she and I were on the phone talking, my 14 year old was outside shoveling the remainder of the snow off the driveway. He was in great need of raising the remainder of his Ski Lift Ticket. I approached him with a smile on my face, "Well, dear, you are in good luck, I need to go to the hospital, and YOU get to babysit your baby brother. You should be free and clear with your finances by tomorrow."
So, with great enforcement, one friend comes in, gathers all of Joy's children to bring them to Grandmas house. I arrive and get Joy into the car.
I sit as she lays upon the bed and tell her that I am writing. I do not tell her that I am tearing on the inside as to why this is happening. There is no *good* in this. The intake nurse states, "It says here that David Plaisted is your emergency contact - is this still the case?" "No, he died in March" came the quiet reply.
I write. I write through the bad, the awful,, the ugly and the good. I am trying to find the good.
Tomorrow, I will pile 5 large teenagers in my car with skis and snowboards, helmets, boots, etc. I am able to afford a living memory for my son and I think to a certain degree, I am encouraging this friendship that he has with his very good friends. Friends that any mom would be happy to have in her home. This is good.
Thanks for listening.
As she and I were on the phone talking, my 14 year old was outside shoveling the remainder of the snow off the driveway. He was in great need of raising the remainder of his Ski Lift Ticket. I approached him with a smile on my face, "Well, dear, you are in good luck, I need to go to the hospital, and YOU get to babysit your baby brother. You should be free and clear with your finances by tomorrow."
So, with great enforcement, one friend comes in, gathers all of Joy's children to bring them to Grandmas house. I arrive and get Joy into the car.
I sit as she lays upon the bed and tell her that I am writing. I do not tell her that I am tearing on the inside as to why this is happening. There is no *good* in this. The intake nurse states, "It says here that David Plaisted is your emergency contact - is this still the case?" "No, he died in March" came the quiet reply.
I write. I write through the bad, the awful,, the ugly and the good. I am trying to find the good.
Tomorrow, I will pile 5 large teenagers in my car with skis and snowboards, helmets, boots, etc. I am able to afford a living memory for my son and I think to a certain degree, I am encouraging this friendship that he has with his very good friends. Friends that any mom would be happy to have in her home. This is good.
Thanks for listening.
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