December 31, 2008
New Year's Eve has never been a big deal to me. Okay, I'll admit that I am one of those geeky people who actually enjoy setting goals and making lists and all of that, so making resolutions is something that I do every year, but celebrating a new year has never been super important to me. This year, however, I have a deep need for the demarcation associated with the holiday.
I've been spending the day reflecting on the past year, as much of the past year as I can emotionally handle anyway. I'm feeling quite well physically today, so I decided I would take a little jaunt over to the Mission to spend some time reflecting. (We live about three miles from the San Xavier Mission.)
I headed out on my pilgrimage in the car with my bottle of water and blasted Yo-Yo Ma on the car stereo, windows down, sun roof open (it was a beautiful day in Tucson). When I got there, I walked into the church and sat on a pew towards the front. People were milling about taking pictures, whispering to each other as they pointed at the architecutral details of the church. Two older women were sitting by the St. Francis statue praying the rosary outloud, thier voices chant-like in the background.
I looked over at the faithful few who were lighting candles and saying prayers. I thought about the prayers that I have said this year, "God please, let my daughter survive," and "Please God, let me keep my colon." I have cried out to God with every ounce of my being this past year. One of my dear friends told me she took a trip out to the Mission while I was in the hospital and looked for a milagro of a colon to give to me as a symbol of her praying to God that it would heal. But it didn't heal, and my daughter didn't survive. And I'm left with the question that many of us face at different times in our lives - where is God?
The weekend of December 13th I was hospitalized for an infection that was forming around my stoma. The pain was some of the most unbearable pain I have ever experienced. Before we went to the ER I was literally writhing in bed in the pain, screaming because it hurt so badly. When they admitted me to the hospital my surgeon introduced me to a new surgeon on staff and she said she might be able to do my ileostomy take down that week. My husband and I had to wait overnight to find out for sure if she could do the surgery or not.
That night I was at the end of my rope. I could not imagine going on one more day with the pain I had been experiencing. If I had to go one more day, I seriously worried that I would lose my will to live. The camel's back could take no more. I asked my husband if he would pray with me. He said he would. We sat together on my hospital bed, hands clasped, eyes closed. I told God then that I was at the end of my rope and he had to know that. I reminded him that he has promised not to give us more than we can bear. The next day when the new surgeon came and told me she could do the final surgery on me in a couple of days which would take care of the problem causing the infection as well as let me be done with my ileostomy for good, I felt that God had heard me and answered my prayer.
It's funny to me though too; during the times when I literally did not have the energy to cry out to God, I believe he was there in the fiber of my being. The times when my spirit wanted to quit and my body was too tired, I believe God was the resolve that eerily came over me. What else could it have been? That resolve wasn't something of me. And as such, I feel that I have experienced God in an amazingly real way this year.
Yes, this year has been full of unbelievable pain and loss. But as my husband was telling me today over lunch, it also had some amazingly beautiful things happen in it. We received so much love and support from our community, friends and family. We are blessed to know that kind of love. It sounds trite, but it's true. And of course, my love and I were touched deeply and profoundly by the brief time we had with Harper Lee who bonded he and I even closer together.
With that I'm going to say so-long to 2008.
Wednesday, December 31, 2008
Tuesday, December 30, 2008
Stepping into the blog world
December 30, 2008
This is my first step into the blogging world. After a year full of health challenges and trying to keep people updated on what's happening I decided starting a blog might be a good way to accomplish that goal. So here goes . . .
I got home from the hospital one week ago today after my third and, God willing, final surgery of the year. I can't believe it's only been a week. I'm already feeling so much stronger than I did even when I went back to work after my second surgery. I'm so thankful. I know I won't feel this good all the time, but even moments of feeling good are greatly welcomed by me. It gives me hope that my life will return to "normal."
"Normal," hmmm . . . that's really a term I should stop using. I will never be the person I was before all the trials of this past year. Even expecting that my life will be what it was like before is setting me up for disappointment. I need to focus on making a new life.
On Christmas evening I sat on the couch in front of the fireplace curled up in a blanket while my mom played Christmas carols on the piano. I sang quietly to Silent Night and then Away in a Manger. I stumbled over the lyrics, trying to remember second and third verses. And then the words, "bless all the dear children in thy tender care," came to me and I stopped singing. Harper. Bless Harper who is in thy tender care. I started to tear up and mom came and sat down next to me. She put her arms around me and I absorbed all the love I could from her.
"When I think about Harper I feel so much love for her and I miss her, but I can't think about her and the loss that I feel or I'll never be able to be happy again," I told her. "I know that probably sounds bad, but it's true." She told me it didn't sound bad and that it made sense to her. Nothing can fill the emptiness that I feel in the core of my being that Harper has left. My survival mechanism right now is to think about her when I have the emotional space to feel whatever it is that rises out of me, and when I don't have that emotional space, I'll do my best to focus on the here and now.
An old family friend sent Jeremy and I a note with a check in it the other day. I continue to be amazed by the generosity and goodness of the people in my life. People are so good. We are so blessed.
Well, I think this is going to be it for my first blog entry. It's almost bedtime and I think I might actually try sleeping on my stomach tonight - the first time in a year!!! Wish me luck . . .
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