I was thinking last night about what independence means to me this year. It certainly has a different meaning than it ever has before.
Independence Day at our house has usually meant something extra fun for dinner, special celebrations or gathering at a friend's house. Whenever possible, sparklers have been involved. Although we've never paid to go to a firework show, we have often found a yard in which to watch a local show. Amy had some daring friends who would put off fireworks in their yards...the really nice (and illegal) kind, like Roman Candles and Bottle Rockets. During my decorating the yard phase, while the girls were little, we would line the edge of the yard with small American flags. While my parents still lived in Albuquerque we would occasionally take a trip there to celebrate my dad's birthday (7/3) and the 4th of July. Neighbors had been gathering at our house since my childhood to eat delicious food, homemade ice cream and set off ground (legal) fireworks. Amy and Alyssa enjoyed those special 4th's immensely.
So, on to Independence Day of 2011...
This year there are no children or teens at our house to celebrate the holiday. Amy's independence began many years ago, but especially at 19, when she moved into her own apartment. Her 4th's are celebrated with friends by the pool or floating on an inner tube down the Comal River. And for the first time ever, Alyssa is not with us on the 4th of July. She is attending a ballet intensive at Ballet Magnificat! in Jackson, MS. Yesterday, they were decorating their dorms, but today they have a full dance schedule. Since this intensive occurs at the same time every year, we probably won't have her home on the 4th again. The girls' independence from us has happened gradually. I have been a mommy for 21 years, which mean 21 years of holiday celebrations.
Alyssa's independence this year is probably the hardest for me to accept. As my mama's girl, I never adequately prepared myself for the day when she would finally leave the nest. Now, I find myself celebrating her independence this summer while mourning it at the same time. I would wonder sometimes if she would turn out to be one of those daughters who stays home and takes care of her aging parents. That is laughable now. Although she has been incredibly attentive and devoted to her dad during his hospitalization, she has blossomed into a self-confident, God-confident young woman. Listening to her chatting with other patients in ICU, encouraging her dad (and me) when things were tough, acting as a hostess to hospital visitors and then seeing her go into the ICU room where one of her friend's father was desperately ill, showed me that she is confidently ready to enter adulthood. Her first foray into the world of ballet intensives illustrates even more independence, as she deals with a slightly difficult roommate, enjoys a variety of ballet teachers, accepts compliments and corrections with equal attention, eats not so hot cafeteria food while assuring that she gets enough protein and organizes her laundry and spending money for the two week stay. Still I glory at her last tweet, "5 days until I see my mommy". It's wonderful to know that I've still got a little time before she's completely independent.
Amy's independence has always been a mystery to me. On the one hand, she let us know from the very start that she wanted her way. Her first kicking, screaming temper tantrum was at 9 months, when I moved a Christmas bauble out of reach. From that moment on she struggled to gain and keep her independence. And yet, while her dad was in the hospital, she mourned the loss of the very help and support that had so often aggravated her before his illness. There were so many times during the month that she texted me about something that had happened and said that she needed her daddy. There's a constant conflict between her never-ending fight for independence and her actual dependency on us. I pray that Amy works this out with us and with herself as she ages. I hope she learns to accept that her need to be around people naturally leads her to be somewhat dependent on others and it doesn't have to be a negative attribute.
Finally, to address who this blog is all about...my sweet husband. Never have I met a more independent man! I don't even know exactly how I fell for him and/or managed to keep him, considering my lack of independence. One night after we were engaged, he was supposed to pick me up and never showed. I went looking for him and found him playing piano in one of the downstairs practice rooms at the college we attended. He had been there for hours and never even realized how late it was. During the early years of our marriage, that blessed young husband would set up his office in our living room because I wanted him in the same room with me, regardless of the fact that we had an extra room for his desk and computer. Until we had children and I finally had someone else to spend all my time with, he graciously spent the majority of his time with me.
And then came the massive brain tumor...
Let's face it, there is nothing independent about being in the hospital. A patient is completely dependent on the care of their family, nurses and friends (and yes, in that order). No matter how independent one tries to be: ice chips and water, going to the restroom, incessant beeping from IV's, bathing, etc. all have to be performed by someone else. I watched Gary struggle to be independent in ICU. We had the forbidden swallowed water incident that led to pneumonia as one example of his independent nature. Doubling up on the number of activities he did in physical therapy showed not only tenacity, but independence. Gary constantly pushed the limits of what he was able to do, which had both good and bad outcomes. Alyssa wrote these words: "Mostly it was taught me that I can’t always be independent, sometimes I have to rely on people. When a grown man can barely do anything, he has to let people help him and I have seen that although he doesn’t like it, he knows he needs the assistance." I found myself marveling at Gary throughout his hospital stay, especially during the two weeks he was in rehab. He worked diligently at all of his therapies, but also sat quietly in his wheelchair or bed in between therapy time. I would ask him if he every felt angry or frustrated and he calmly answered that there was no point in that. He had learned to be patient, to persevere and be dependent on the help of others.
Since we have been home, the one and only mild argument that we have had happened the very first afternoon. Gary implored me to "stop hovering", despite the fact that he had been released from the hospital "under supervision". I didn't honestly think that I was hovering because there was suddenly a wheelchair, a walker, 2 medications, blood pressure to be taken several times a day, a shower and the responsibility of seeing to everything thrown into my day. I just thought that I was "accomplishing" those tasks. But Gary needed to work out what he was capable of doing on his own, and 10 days later we are in perfect sync with daily care. Gary is doing many things on his own: making his coffee in the morning, taking his medicine and blood pressure, doing his exercises, working on the computer and at the piano, getting his breakfast and lunch. He has had to accept dependence in other ways: me driving him places and then helping him get around in the wheelchair and walker, cleaning up after his meals, doing the garbage and watering the lawn, help him with meals and showering and bandaging the stomach tube.
Independence and dependence, for Gary and me, represents his fight to regain everything that he lost during the surgery. We have no idea at this point what the final outcome of that fight will be, but there is no doubt that we will work at it with dedication to achieve a goal of near perfection. If my independent husband has to surrender some of his independence in the end, I have confidence that he will do so with the grace and good humor that he has shown throughout this entire ordeal. And I will learn some independence that I have lacked in the past, thankful that I can depend on God to provide all the strength that I need.
Independence Day at our house has usually meant something extra fun for dinner, special celebrations or gathering at a friend's house. Whenever possible, sparklers have been involved. Although we've never paid to go to a firework show, we have often found a yard in which to watch a local show. Amy had some daring friends who would put off fireworks in their yards...the really nice (and illegal) kind, like Roman Candles and Bottle Rockets. During my decorating the yard phase, while the girls were little, we would line the edge of the yard with small American flags. While my parents still lived in Albuquerque we would occasionally take a trip there to celebrate my dad's birthday (7/3) and the 4th of July. Neighbors had been gathering at our house since my childhood to eat delicious food, homemade ice cream and set off ground (legal) fireworks. Amy and Alyssa enjoyed those special 4th's immensely.
So, on to Independence Day of 2011...
This year there are no children or teens at our house to celebrate the holiday. Amy's independence began many years ago, but especially at 19, when she moved into her own apartment. Her 4th's are celebrated with friends by the pool or floating on an inner tube down the Comal River. And for the first time ever, Alyssa is not with us on the 4th of July. She is attending a ballet intensive at Ballet Magnificat! in Jackson, MS. Yesterday, they were decorating their dorms, but today they have a full dance schedule. Since this intensive occurs at the same time every year, we probably won't have her home on the 4th again. The girls' independence from us has happened gradually. I have been a mommy for 21 years, which mean 21 years of holiday celebrations.
Alyssa's independence this year is probably the hardest for me to accept. As my mama's girl, I never adequately prepared myself for the day when she would finally leave the nest. Now, I find myself celebrating her independence this summer while mourning it at the same time. I would wonder sometimes if she would turn out to be one of those daughters who stays home and takes care of her aging parents. That is laughable now. Although she has been incredibly attentive and devoted to her dad during his hospitalization, she has blossomed into a self-confident, God-confident young woman. Listening to her chatting with other patients in ICU, encouraging her dad (and me) when things were tough, acting as a hostess to hospital visitors and then seeing her go into the ICU room where one of her friend's father was desperately ill, showed me that she is confidently ready to enter adulthood. Her first foray into the world of ballet intensives illustrates even more independence, as she deals with a slightly difficult roommate, enjoys a variety of ballet teachers, accepts compliments and corrections with equal attention, eats not so hot cafeteria food while assuring that she gets enough protein and organizes her laundry and spending money for the two week stay. Still I glory at her last tweet, "5 days until I see my mommy". It's wonderful to know that I've still got a little time before she's completely independent.
Amy's independence has always been a mystery to me. On the one hand, she let us know from the very start that she wanted her way. Her first kicking, screaming temper tantrum was at 9 months, when I moved a Christmas bauble out of reach. From that moment on she struggled to gain and keep her independence. And yet, while her dad was in the hospital, she mourned the loss of the very help and support that had so often aggravated her before his illness. There were so many times during the month that she texted me about something that had happened and said that she needed her daddy. There's a constant conflict between her never-ending fight for independence and her actual dependency on us. I pray that Amy works this out with us and with herself as she ages. I hope she learns to accept that her need to be around people naturally leads her to be somewhat dependent on others and it doesn't have to be a negative attribute.
Finally, to address who this blog is all about...my sweet husband. Never have I met a more independent man! I don't even know exactly how I fell for him and/or managed to keep him, considering my lack of independence. One night after we were engaged, he was supposed to pick me up and never showed. I went looking for him and found him playing piano in one of the downstairs practice rooms at the college we attended. He had been there for hours and never even realized how late it was. During the early years of our marriage, that blessed young husband would set up his office in our living room because I wanted him in the same room with me, regardless of the fact that we had an extra room for his desk and computer. Until we had children and I finally had someone else to spend all my time with, he graciously spent the majority of his time with me.
And then came the massive brain tumor...
Let's face it, there is nothing independent about being in the hospital. A patient is completely dependent on the care of their family, nurses and friends (and yes, in that order). No matter how independent one tries to be: ice chips and water, going to the restroom, incessant beeping from IV's, bathing, etc. all have to be performed by someone else. I watched Gary struggle to be independent in ICU. We had the forbidden swallowed water incident that led to pneumonia as one example of his independent nature. Doubling up on the number of activities he did in physical therapy showed not only tenacity, but independence. Gary constantly pushed the limits of what he was able to do, which had both good and bad outcomes. Alyssa wrote these words: "Mostly it was taught me that I can’t always be independent, sometimes I have to rely on people. When a grown man can barely do anything, he has to let people help him and I have seen that although he doesn’t like it, he knows he needs the assistance." I found myself marveling at Gary throughout his hospital stay, especially during the two weeks he was in rehab. He worked diligently at all of his therapies, but also sat quietly in his wheelchair or bed in between therapy time. I would ask him if he every felt angry or frustrated and he calmly answered that there was no point in that. He had learned to be patient, to persevere and be dependent on the help of others.
Since we have been home, the one and only mild argument that we have had happened the very first afternoon. Gary implored me to "stop hovering", despite the fact that he had been released from the hospital "under supervision". I didn't honestly think that I was hovering because there was suddenly a wheelchair, a walker, 2 medications, blood pressure to be taken several times a day, a shower and the responsibility of seeing to everything thrown into my day. I just thought that I was "accomplishing" those tasks. But Gary needed to work out what he was capable of doing on his own, and 10 days later we are in perfect sync with daily care. Gary is doing many things on his own: making his coffee in the morning, taking his medicine and blood pressure, doing his exercises, working on the computer and at the piano, getting his breakfast and lunch. He has had to accept dependence in other ways: me driving him places and then helping him get around in the wheelchair and walker, cleaning up after his meals, doing the garbage and watering the lawn, help him with meals and showering and bandaging the stomach tube.
Independence and dependence, for Gary and me, represents his fight to regain everything that he lost during the surgery. We have no idea at this point what the final outcome of that fight will be, but there is no doubt that we will work at it with dedication to achieve a goal of near perfection. If my independent husband has to surrender some of his independence in the end, I have confidence that he will do so with the grace and good humor that he has shown throughout this entire ordeal. And I will learn some independence that I have lacked in the past, thankful that I can depend on God to provide all the strength that I need.
No comments:
Post a Comment