Wednesday, September 2, 2015

We Don’t Have Tomorrow …

Coffee Hour @ Chicklit Power...
Coffee Hour @ Chicklit Power...
EL pen Logo with heartOh, my goodness, can you believe it; it’s almost fall! I love this time of year, when the change of seasons is just around the corner, even though the heat is trying to contradict that truth, and decorating ideas fill our thoughts; creativity brings them to life, our fall and winter clothes lay waiting for the weather to line up with the time of year. And the colors, don’t you just love the colors of fall? Woops, got carried away there, thinking just a little ahead! Grab your coffee, your strand of faith, and come on in as I share about a tragic loss I recently experienced, and some truths that came from that loss.

Three weeks ago, my son text to let me know his dad was in the hospital with the worst kind of pneumonia someone could have, especially for one whose immune system was already compromised. He asked me to pray. He attached three crying faces. Oh, but that broke my heart for so many reasons, for both of them, but especially my son. Without getting into the not-so-pretty details, let me just honestly share that I was more concerned for my son, as there were so many things left unsaid between them. So honestly, as a mom, I prayed for my son, and after working through a bit of unresolved animosity on my part as a result of his dad’s absence in my son’s life, from the age of four until that moment, I prayed for his father…and continued on with the rest of my evening.

I’ll cut this long story in half and just let you know that the next evening, my son called, tears filling his throat, making it difficult for him to talk so his words came out rather choppy: Mom, I don’t know what to do; Ryan doesn’t think he’s going to make it and says I should come out there.”

My heart fell to the ground, but thank goodness common sense didn’t follow. “Son, you have to go. You can’t “not” go or you will live with that regret for the rest of your life.” I explained we could help him financially if that was a problem, suggested he start shopping for airfare, hung up and stayed in survival mode. My sweet-hearted husband then called him back, gave him the credit card number and re-affirmed what I had told him, but man to man.
The arrangements made, we met my son up in Monterey the following day…at the hospital. I spotted my ex in-law family and after I ran to my son and held him for several lingering moments, I turned and hugged each one of them. There was no sense of awkwardness or animosity; just a genuine concern and sadness that joined us all on one common ground.
I was in no way prepared for what I saw when my son walked me into his room. There he lay, face down, suspended in the air, strapped in some contraption that kept him airborne with his head in like a cage, tubes coming out of everywhere. I gasped, hardly recognizing the man that lay there. As I listened to the beeping of the machines, my heart began to take in all that my eyes were seeing. The tears wouldn’t come; I wasn’t sure why. It was as though they were paralyzed, just like he was, from moving toward freedom.

I stared at him, thinking about all I had come to learn about him just in the last year, things that filled in the puzzle pieces of our life together nearly thirty years ago, why things didn’t work out, why he did what he did, chose the things that he did that brought him to this very moment. Oh, how I wanted him to open up his eyes and I wanted to look into them, deeply, reach down into his soul, massage it to softness, rid him of the stony heart made even more hard because of the way he lived his life…because of all that he ran from. I wanted to tell him I understood why he did what he did; why he didn’t do what he should have, could have; that I forgave him for not being the dad he should have, could have been. What I had learned didn’t justify his behavior, but it did clarify his behavior.

But I didn’t get that chance, not just because he wasn’t about to open his eyes due to the medically induced coma he was in, but  his sister came in there so I lost that opportunity.
By the next day, he was making great strides of improvement and my heart rejoiced over the possibility of another possibility…not just for me, but for him, for my son, to maybe have a chance to be father and son healthily without all the demons that had chased this man to the hospital. I was refueled with hope; I had tomorrow…

Join me tomorrow for the conclusion

IMG_8444-2 blogEvinda

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