My life is chaotic, filled with stress as I (we) deal with some of our son’s medical issues that are extremely challenging. He hadn’t been functioning well at school or at home. We were at our wit’s end, desperately trying to figure out how to help him and where to turn for answers, while at the same time showing him our love.
This reality is often paralyzing and feels suffocating,
as we try to help him, attempt to parent, and be there for our daughter, work, pay the bills, mow the lawn, and clean the house. I often feel like I’m failing in all areas of my life with those I love. I’m pretty sure my husband says the same. Things for our son reached a crisis point, and we had to place him in the hospital to undergo treatment to try to find something that could be done to at least manage the issues.
Taking a child to the hospital for any reason is traumatic.
Admitting them and knowing that their stay is not going to just be one night, but several, and the release date is unknown. . .
Words can’t describe it.
You are no longer living, you are merely surviving and barely that. Because your heart exists outside your body for the rest of your life, when your child is born.
We visited him daily and had many meetings with medical professionals. After an extremely difficult visit one Friday night, my husband and I decided we needed to take the next day off. I couldn’t face going back there just yet if it was going to be a repeat of this day.
The morning dawned bright and early. I couldn’t sleep. Thoughts of the day before kept running through my mind, and worries about what this would mean for his (and our) future. By 6 am I was out of bed hoping a nice hot bath would calm me down. It didn’t. I tried laying back down for a while as I was truly mentally, physically, and spiritually exhausted. After a while, I started the laundry and dishes. The rest of my family needed to have clean clothes and dishes, even if I didn’t care if I did.
As I tried to function that day, I felt weighted down. I felt as if I was trying to move through a sea of water, only sometimes coming up for air.
I couldn’t eat. Nothing sounded good, tasted good, and the thought of food made me ill.
I couldn’t function, in spite of the doctor-prescribed medication that I was taking to deal with the stresses, I was facing.
I was drowning.
My husband could see it.
In my religion “blessings” are given to the hose who need comfort or who are sick. Hands are placed on your head and the person is inspired to tell you what God wants you to hear.
My husband, seeing the state I was in, made sure I received a blessing that day. One of the things said in the blessing was that,
“angels were surrounding me and that if I would allow them to, they would comfort me.”
Immediately the thought entered my mind, that my paternal grandfather and a brother I had lost when he was 13, were two of those angels.
I’ve had many experiences with feeling my brother’s presence and knowing that he is there helping me since he died. We’ve always had a special bond. But my grandfather was different. I had never felt his presence near since he died or thought of him in this way before. Why would I suddenly feel he was so very close?
At this moment, as the thought of these two men entered my mind, I had a visceral and concrete feeling of my Grandpa’s strong broad shoulders. I felt they were there for me to cry out my grief, frustration, tears, anger, loss, and discouragement. I could feel the fabric of his shirt, I could smell him, and I could feel his embrace as I sat on my kitchen floor and cried my soul out to God, and to Grandpa. Their love encircled me.
As I reflected afterward, wondering why it had been my Grandpa, memories came to mind.
The time my father was buried alive (he survived), another when I fell 10 feet onto a concrete floor hitting my head. These times when my grandfather’s love and care for his family were not only evident but primary in those moments.
He may have been old and often cantankerous when I knew him. But these memories coming to mind reminded me of the deep love he had for his family, and how he was always there whenever we needed him.
This moment was one of the lowest I have ever experienced. He had come to me in my hour of need when I was in real trouble. I knew that he was going to stay with me until I could stand on my own and handle life again.
Even beyond the grave, my grandpa hasn’t changed. He still has a gift for knowing when his family needs help. That day, when I desperately needed help, I don’t think anything could have stopped him from coming to my aid.
