I recognized the look on the nurse's face. "Really? Jay again? What this time?" You should have seen her face when I told her that our emergency visit was because Jay had jumped off the bed & well, uh, there was definitely something not right with his pinky toe.
An immediate referral to the orthopedist that afternoon would reveal that my acrobatic 13yr old had not bumped his head jumping off the bed but had shattered the tiny inch long appendage that the doctors forbid me to simply tie off & let time take its course. No. The necessity of this appendage became questionable as it would require SURGERY to the tune of TEN THOUSAND DOLLARS to fix! One thing was clear - For the sake of Jay's future health, maintaining status quo wasn't an option. Something had to be done as soon as the swelling went down.
This past week I heard a new song. Ok, it's really a rewrite - Tell Your Heart To Beat Again by Danny Gokey. It's been no secret that I've had a really hard time since gma went Home. She was an integral part of the lives of her daughters, sons, grandchildren, & great grandchildren. Even though we knew her time with us was nearing an end that didn't keep our hearts from shattering the morning we all got that early morning phone call.
In the past 3 months I feel as though I've lived another lifetime, much the same as I did last fall. There have been countless times I've picked up the phone & thought, "Oh ya...." then choked back tears hoping nobody else noticed my mistake. More than once I've caught myself thinking, "I wonder if anyone told Mawmaw about this?" Early morning appointments are the hardest as I pull out of my driveway with a clear shot through the trees to her lighted back porch. She used to be up this early and now I start the day all alone.
Caregiving and grief have so radically changed who I am that like the song says, "(I'll) never get back to the (me) (I) used to be." But I'm beginning to find peace in that too. I don't know that I want to be that me that was before. I mean wouldn't that be pretending none of this happened in the first place? Would she really have meant as much to me if my heart bounced back to the way it was? Still, I struggle sometimes with the everyday things - those silly little pinky toe things that could as easily be tied off & forgotten.
This past Saturday I had the privilege of spending time with an amazing woman, who though my age had just lost her husband. The words that greeted my momma, her leader & myself were, "This feels like so much more than I can carry." The words took my breath away. She stood there, repeating again & again how worried she was for their girls & how much she wanted them to know that their daddy had loved them. But perhaps it was her parting words that struck me the deepest. "This is not a surprise to God. We may not like it, we may not understand & we are definitely surprised but God knew this was going to happen & He's going to steady me through."
I managed to hold back the tears long enough for our friend to drop us off at momma's car. Then. Then I found myself crying so hard I literally could not breathe this time. Her world, her girls' world - shattered - doesn't even begin to describe it. Yet there she stood, reassuring us that this was indeed within God's control.
Here she is at the beginning of a journey she didn't ask for, a journey where the darkness could easily consume her & the shadows will loom at every turn.
Monday I heard that song though. Monday was when I knew I had a choice to make. I could either continue to live in the grief that began my journey on October 17 or I could let the shadows fall away & step into the Light of day.
Grief has been my friend. It's been the mask I've hidden behind as the fear of moving forward with life, in my mind, meant moving on without gma. Will I forget the things I've learned? The sweet moments this fall gave? The way she smelled? The firmness of that hug that could make everything seem better? Her voice?
Those pinky toe things all seem so insignificant when compared with everything I've experienced. Everything this young mom is now facing. But it's in the pinky toe things that I feel broken. Shattered. Is that what I'm really asking? To stay shattered?
Within two weeks, I scheduled my baby boy for surgery. He'd never been put under anesthesia before and my family doesn't typically handle it well. I couldn't let my fear of what might happen leave his pinky toe broken. He's his football team's kicker, not to mention that the human body maintains best balance through the big toe & this seemingly inconsequential inch long, now shattered, toe. Surgery wasn't just AN option, it was THE only option.
The scar that he sports is a reminder of not just what he's been through, but a symbol of who he is. He's active. He's a daredevil. He's full of life & takes every moment to live it to the fullest. Years later, the bone in that toe is not only healed but twice as big and strong as the converse toe on his left foot. But in order to get there, we had to make the conscious decision to move forward, to close the door of the pre-surgery Jay & trust God to carry us through. He has his balance back again.
I have a choice to make. I can stay comfortable BFFs with grief and allow it to continue consuming me or I can take that first scary step forward & begin close the door on the rawness of the previous chapter of my life. As time goes on, I will forget some things but I will never forget the journey that got me here. And though my heart was shattered, God has already begun putting the pieces back together in a beautiful mosaic, glued together with the grout of His love, stronger than it ever was before. My balance is beginning to return & those pinky toe things don't seem so daunting anymore. I just had to tell my heart that it was ok to beat again.
