This post has been composing itself in my mind for weeks. There have been several instances where I’ve tried to put my words down, but I just sit here, staring at my computer screen, unsure of where to begin. So here I am tonight, once again attempting to write.
Monday, April 18, 2011, 12:30 am
It’s taken me two hours to get the last three sentences down. I’ve been both looking forward to and dreading this week for, well… weeks. The closer we get to the anniversary of Christopher’s accident, the more intense everything becomes. Remember those visions I used to have where I saw him falling from that tree… over and over and over again, like a tape caught in an endless cycle of play/rewind/play/rewind/play? They’re back in full-force. Remember my sleepless nights? Sleep is once again eluding me. And the pain I felt in my heart as I sat in the PICU, watching the monitors, stroking the arms and legs of my comatose boy, talking those numbers back to the place they needed to be? That pain has returned and it is as real and intense as it was a year ago.
So why am I surprised? Why did I fool myself into thinking that once we reached the one-year marker, things would settle down, my nightmares would disappear, the worries would dissipate and I’d be overjoyed by the fact that Christopher is alive and thriving? Don’t get me wrong; I AM thankful for the progress he’s made! I DO look at him every day and marvel at the fact that he’s such a typical 14-year old boy… texting endlessly, listening to loud, annoying music; hanging out with friends every chance he can get, and preparing for his upcoming soccer tryouts.
But what I have discovered is that the anniversary of a traumatic event… actually, the anniversary of any event, good or bad is a time for reflection, and you know me… reflecting is one of the things I do best! I now believe that we are far better off NOT knowing the future. Sure, life comes at us fast and we don’t know what’s around the next corner, but as time marches on, I am coming to the realization that I should always expect the unexpected and that it would be wise to never say ‘never.
The first year after Christopher’s accident was all about survival and this second year will be about anniversaries… the anniversary of the week before the accident. The anniversary of the day he fell; the phone call he made to me 30 minutes before, telling me that he and his friends were going to find ‘some really awesome trees to climb’ in the neighborhood. The knock on my door at 6:30 pm, a neighbor telling me that I needed to come with her, that there had been an accident and they’d called 911. The shock I felt at seeing my boy, lifeless on the ground; another kind neighbor kneeling at his head, telling me that Christopher was unresponsive and the paramedics were on their way… seeing Emily fall into a heap on the street, struggling with the scene before her… her little brother at death’s door… watching the paramedics cut Christopher’s clothes off, explain to me his precarious condition, stabilize and quickly whisk him off to the waiting helicopter… seeing Paul’s face as we walked into the hospital at the same time, not knowing if our child was still alive, not knowing what the next 24 hours… 8 days… 4 weeks… or 12 months would hold for us… the anniversary of the diagnosis: severe traumatic brain injury. Just writing about it now brings the emotion flooding back and it is so real that it feels as though it is happening all over again.
Thursday, April 21, 2011, 1:00 am
1:00 am… my favorite time to write… in the wee hours of the morning. As I was saying, this next year will be filled with anniversaries, but along with the painful memories there will be the most wonderful ones of all. My boy survived against the odds and today he is thriving. He is truly a walking, talking miracle and I have every reason in the world to be thankful and to celebrate.
I’ve been reading about wisdom lately and have learned much from Job’s example in the bible. His words, ‘we take the good days from God – why not also the bad days?’ really struck a chord with me. As Christopher’s doctor predicted, I found myself struggling with the aftermath of his accident once we got home from the hospital last May. I alluded to it in my Christmas letter when I said that what I initially called ‘the blues,’ I eventually came to accept as depression. I believe that my biggest challenge on a daily basis is to accept those bad days that Job spoke of and thankfully, I am making progress.
What I have learned is that without the bad, we don’t fully appreciate the good. The risk is that we fail to see the blessings before us and our days become mundane, quotidian. I know that I do not wish to live a trivial life. I hope to be an example to my children of what it means to live life filled with love and joy; to view it as a journey; to dream big. But most of all, I want them to learn to take the ups with the downs, the good with the bad. We cannot have one without the other and it all works together to make our lives beautiful. Yes, life truly IS WONDERFUL!
Love, Laura
