Every morning while John is on the toilet I set up his toothbrush with a rinse cup. 12 years old and I can finally walk out of the bathroom while he brushes his teeth . I set it up, say “brush, rinse and come downstairs.” Today, he never came downstairs. While I’m getting his meds ready I shout up, “John, are you done brushing your teeth?”. His response, “Yah, brush Bosses teeth”. I run upstairs and find this.
They are bonding. They are like brothers that like each other when it suits them. Boss sometimes knows nothing of personal space while John is always telling him to “watch your personal space!”. They still struggle at the top of the stairs every morning. Boss likes to take an entire step and lay there until you’re just ready to step on him. Then he moves. John enjoys letting Boss lick the white cheddar off his fingers from eating “Black Popcorn” (The white cheddar popcorn in a black bag). While he licks his fingers he says “Look tickles”.
I love that they are bonding and becoming friends. This could have gone either way.
A boy and his dog
During John’s last hospital stent I wrote this. I am so glad I journal to remind myself of what we have been through. We can do it all!!
While John’s in the hospital I often start thinking about what the purpose of this life is? We all hope that there is something beyond this, otherwise that makes this life for nothing. What is the purpose of all the hardship and joy, lessons and hurt? I was driving back to the hospital the other day after going home to take a shower. I was in a rush and angry. I often talk about how horrible my road rage is and it’s so unnecessary. I saw an elderly woman looking so sad standing close to edge of the street ready to cross, a family leaving the hair salon struggling to push the stroller through the door, a car speeding past me to make the light and a man in a wheelchair just waiting. Then, I thought about my mom and dad while they were dying. All the pain they went through, what was it for? After they died so many people gathered to celebrate their lives and show their respects. So many people had stories about all the days they gathered together. Three years later no one is telling those stories anymore of my mom and her feisty ways. The Irish woman divorced who moved back to her home country to retire with her American ways. Drinking beer from a bottle and going to bars alone. They really had to get used to her and grew to adore her. One year later no one is talking about my dad’s generous heart. The way he would stop and talk to a homeless man and had no problem giving him twenty dollars every time he seen him. How he would buy a stranger in the bar a beer just to see them happy. What is the purpose of all this? Why are we going through this life only to die and be forgotten? In 100 years, no one will know my name or John’s name unless they come across it on a tombstone. No one will know the lessons he learned.
Today, everyone talks about how beautiful he is. How he makes sad people happy. How his smile brightens a room. How he curses like a sailor and how brave he is. In 50 or 100 years when I am gone and john is gone no one will remember any of it. All the pain my little man endured his whole life will be for what?
History shows people repeat the mistakes of the past. Presidential candidates try what’s been done already and fail. People suffering from mental illness and cancer are still not cured. What is this all for? If you talk to a Jehovah witness, they will tell you the reward is in heaven. A Catholic will tell you its eternal life. I don’t know. It’s all intertwined with hope and faith in a higher power. Letting go of what we cannot control and allowing life to happen gracefully. Acceptance of people for who they are. And responding to hate with love.
I always conclude with, “I have no idea but if we need to be here we midas well be kind”. Even while driving. I am grateful that John is with us. I am for every moment. We take the pain because there is so much good that comes along with it. I hate the pain because of what it does to his little body and life. But I love Johnny more than life. Countering the hate with love…we will be better than ever.
Today, I am an entrepreneur, a mother and wife. As I type this my son has his head resting on my thigh with an oxygen mask attached to his face via a home concentrator. Its bedtime so my husband is downstairs watching TV and probably sleeping because I have the kid watch night shift. It’s a routine we have become accustomed to over the last 12 years. More on that later…
The past me was a nine to fiver for a 500K corporation. I was working my way up to the top, having liquid lunches, meaning Bacardi, and kid free. Until I fell into marriage, became a foster parent and had my son John. Then, I was a stay at home mom turned medical advocate with a crash course in medical jargon and an education advocate with “due process” always in my master plan, but thankfully never initiated. This ME became a lonely housewife that liked to party.
Once you hit your bottom there is no other place to go but up. If you are desperate enough to change and surround yourself with the right people they will give you the steps to keep you moving forward even on your loneliest days.
The future ME, I haven’t met yet. I take it one day at a time and let my life play out the way it should. 10 years ago, I never would have imagined being the owner of a successful sweet treat shop. I’m pretty sure anyone who knew me couldn’t imagine it either. I think this is why I am blogging. I want to start thinking about what I want to do next. Writing has been such a healing process for me over the years. Some of what I wrote I shared on social media sites and some I did not. This is the time for me to heal from my past, move forward and write about it.
Maybe my future me is a writer?