I am down tonight, it has been building for weeks but tonight I feel it intensely. It is a combination of many things.
The first week in November, the 17 year old son of a close friend died in a drowning accident.
He was a bright, kind, and joyful child. In his obituary his parents wrote;
“He will be remembered for his unmitigated joyfulness, his natural curiosity, and his wholehearted enthusiasm. He lived fully. In his seventeen years of life, he traveled extensively and visited many places including Belize, the Galapagos Islands, Fiji, New Zealand, and Samoa. He enjoyed exploring and experiencing the world… He loved camping and felt at home sleeping under the stars. He could be found cooking homemade meals for his family, teaching himself to play the piano, or gaming with friends. He did not squander his life. He stepped into it with a big smile and his wonderful curly hair, awake and wholehearted.”
No doubt many have heard, “No parent should ever have to bury their child.” It is true.
Secondly, my son who has been battling IBD and autoimmune pancreatitis for 14 years has been in the hospital for a month. He came home today, but he is not well.
He was equally a charming child. He had a magical childhood as well. He traveled the world with us. He raised chickens (they were his pets), then he became interested in aquaculture. He formed a website for the reef community at 14, he started a computer cloud company at 20. He had a bright and promising future when IBD reared its ugly head. At 22, his colon perforated while he was in the hospital. He was bleeding internally. After 3 surgeries and 8 weeks in hospital he came home. A year later he nearly bled to death after a scope procedure and biopsy. Then year after year it seems the problems just piled on.
Today he is on a lot of medication, he’s in a lot of pain, and it seems the medical community has given up on helping him. It’s incredibly sad when you have to fight a disease and you have to fight the medical community too.
I have prayed so many prayers for my son. The other day I pleaded with God, I asked, what is the answer? Is there anybody that can help him? So far the answers have not come.
Added to this, I got a call this morning that my cousin died. I just saw her in September. She was five years older than me in the last 15 or so years we reconnected and became closer. She was beautiful, she was intelligent, loving and kind.
She was a RN and with continuing education, got her masters degree. She worked for years at the VA hospital in Albuquerque as a counselor.
Sadly, several years ago, she was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s and declined very quickly.
When I saw her in September, she was unable to carry on a conversation. When I arrived, she looked up at me and smiled. I said to her, “Hi Debbie, it’s your cousin, Trish” She looks straight at me and replied, “I know.” That was the most comprehendible conversation we had that day.
I asked her to take a picture before I left. I held up the phone and smiled to take a selfie. She leaned her head over to touch mine and shut her eyes.
I am forever grateful for the visit that day. When I got home in Washington, I reflected on my visit with her. I felt she would grieve if she understood, she would not want to live that way. I told my husband I never want to live that way. Just existing with all dignity and autonomy lost.
Finally, it is winter. It is dark, dreary and cold outside. I feel dark, dreary and cold inside.
A slowly brewing state of grief, downheartedness, and sorrow in my soul.
Praying this season in my soul passes quickly. When winter is over I pray I will see and feel the new hope of spring.
Emyloom ~ Words Woven Within My Heart 