Happy Birthday, Danielle!

Gifted

Happy Birthday Jennifer!

Everyday Life

With me hanging on to one elbow, she slowly hitches herself up the 1.5 inches onto her bathroom scales, groaning, straining, and clutching the counter in front of her as if she were balancing atop a fifty-foot flag pole. The scales are placed in front of the bathroom sink so that she can hang on to the counter to get her balance, but then it takes all Mom’s resolve to unclutch her fingers long enough for me to get the true reading of her weight. This hated ritual is necessary because an overnight two to three pound gain or a one pound gain for five consecutive days indicates renal failure. A couple weeks ago this indicator and some other symptoms cropped up just before a weekend so I put in a call to her doctor and her medicine was readjusted for a few days to drain off more fluid. This tends to irritate her kidneys, but by the third day of double the usual number of bathroom trips, Mom was better and has remained okay even after the water pill went back to the usual dosage. Here we are on that proverbial rollercoaster again. The twists and turns, highs and lows of our journey are getting more frequent and more disconcerting.

 

 

After dodging that bullet, life evened out for a few days until Mom had her annual eye appointment. Then, in one day she ping ponged between being angry with me for not telling her about the afternoon appointment until she got up that morning, feeling embarrassed once she got there because she had to take off her hat which had messed up her hair, being irritated over all the waiting between tests, tiring out from the physical struggle of several transfers from her wheel chair, and the final relief of finding out in the end that her eye health had remained stable. I think the emotional ups and downs of days like these are as draining for us as the physical challenges.

Ordinary Heroes

Ordinary days can become extraordinary when you answer the call for help. I hadn't even heard about these heroes...

Thank You

I was really moved by this video from Japan. The sincerity of the people, the simple message, and the emotion touched me deeply. It also made me reflect on my past refusals of help when I didn’t want to burden someone else or I had no way to repay them. In other words, I let my pride make the decision for me.

But Japan’s choice to accept help from other nations after the devastation by the tsunami eleven months ago empowered them to turn a tragic story into one of hope and healing; a success that now ripples out to all who were part of the aid effort. To me, this story is a reminder of the powerful gift that those who may feel utterly powerless have to give, even as they struggle.

Mom and I are involved in the daily tension of giving and receiving. At first glance, it seems like I am doing the former, she the latter, but it really doesn’t work that way. She may need me to help her stand up and totter over to the sink every morning, but I also need her to accept and apply my help to her own strength. If she refuses to receive the hand that I reach out to her, then neither of us accomplishes anything; but if she accepts by grasping it with her own, then her need gets met and she gives me the priceless gift of seeing her empowered to succeed. We both become givers and receivers; each humbled by our vulnerability to rejection, with the end result that she feels less alone and I feel part of her triumph. How easily the sin of pride could undermine this powerful exchange.

Arigato, Tohoku, for the poignant reminder.

Vacancy

“I’m feeling a little vacancy.” That’s how Aunt Blanche would sometimes, rather tongue-in-cheek, express hunger. Well, I’ve been feeling a little vacancy, too, these days, but not in my stomach. I have been staring at this blog for months, wanting to reach out with meaningful words; set down some sort of record. At first I blamed my creative deficiency on lack of time, then on lack of interesting activity; after all, one day looks pretty much like the next around here. Yet, there has been something brewing beneath the surface of my psyche that I need to say.

Perhaps the stage of care giving and receiving that Mom and I are in is to blame. Some days the feelings are too deep or too personal to set into print and on others they are too shallow and self-centered; exposing the worst of me at a time when I am trying to exercise the best. Or maybe it’s that my feelings are just too jumbled right now.

All I know is that when I go to write, I am empty.

Void.
Flat.

In fact, my conversations tend to be the same.

I have nothing to add.
Ever.

The natural inclination, of course, is to look for solutions.

Get out more.
Keep busy.
Exercise.
Find things to do together.
Grab some alone time.
But, honestly, I know all that; it’s what we’ve been trying to do. This problem is something else.

I have decided that Mom and I are both just tired right now; tired of ourselves, our complaints, and each other, and each other’s complaints…and demands. We’re trapped; me willingly, her not so much. And frankly, I don’t think there is a specific cure for what I feel right now. It just is what it is. Maybe restlessness is a natural part of this journey and the best thing I can do is acknowledge the emptiness it conjures so that it doesn’t become overwhelming and then continue on with as much tenacity as I can muster. So with this post, here I am, moving forward again with renewed resolve.

Happy Birthday Fearless Leader

Motivation

Family Photo Shoot

You never know for sure what you're going to get when our family lines up for a photo shoot. This year was momentous because we were all together in the same room, around the same Christmas tree on the real night of Christmas Eve...and we even had a few extra brave souls with us! On Christmas Day we lazed around, but Monday morning, before Jen, Bin, and his folks headed off to the airport, Jeremy set up lights and camera to digitally memorialize the occasion. He got some great shots, but, as you can see, there was also plenty of shenanigans in between; from Mom being carried in her chair to a Charlie's Angels shootout. Let's be honest. The unscripted nonsense is what makes photo shoots bearable and it's also what characterizes our brood.