Happy Birthday

I’ve spent most of July 27th, 2019 not making a big deal of this day. Last year today the kids celebrated B’s birthday with candles in jello from molds, hoping that B could blow them out and partake in a little dessert. He was recovering from the big day of breakdowns in both B’s health and in the medical system supporting him. On his birthday he had just been moved out of the ICU and was in a post-surgery recovery ward for another week before heading home.

The surgeons had corrected a bowel obstruction and removed cancerous lesions and scar tissue from his abdomen. B had not yet been cleared to even sip water; he kept his mouth wet with sponge swabs and spoke longingly of the privilege and beauty of the perfect glass of iced tea. Although we tried, he wasn’t yet ready for jello.

The world and people around us were bustling with vacations and picnics and dinners out and we were in a different plain of existence. I was appreciating the luxury of life and breath and finally truly seeing what a privilege it is to be able to suck on an ice chip.

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Today, we are partially back in that other plain. The kids are off at camp, I took Callie to a dog training session, and i’m working on clearing through paperwork in the delightful quiet of home. Last year we canceled our August vacation. This year, we’ll be going to the beach with Bs’s family and then off to Maine with Corinne and Rich and their family.

No one can stay in crisis forever, and for this I am grateful. B is freed from suffering, the kids are freed from stasis, and I am starting to learn to do this all on my own. Still, we are not yet on the normal plain. I feel the pang of loss in new ways each day. I still re-discover that B is gone and I still wonder how I will be enough.

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I didn’t understood it before, and I don’t think I can really understand it now. But I do know that right now, in too many places, whether through health, or drought, or war, or politics, there are children who wonder if they will have a dad or mom and who will take care of them; there are parents or cousins or friends who face a future without a spouse or dear soul; there are those deep in their own physical or mental suffering who wonder what it all means and why they should try; and there are those working to stem the suffering who wonder how they can ever be enough.

Being with B brought me closer to remembering these people who I do not see everyday. I am thinking of B tonight, and learning from his grace and dignity regardless of body. I am grateful for what he taught me about my own smug assumptions about life. My heart goes out in comfort and love to those souls feeling fear and suffering.

Let us help this world be a better place.

Peace and love.