Posted by: Rachel | May 27, 2011

Moving On

My dear friend Rosie had a public auction for her husband’s business equipment this week. He was in a bad motorcycle accident last summer and is not able to continue with the business. I know it was a rough day for her because selling his stuff is admitting that it will not be anytime soon that he could once again manage his company. I would not wish their experiences on anyone, ever, but I have learned so much from her trials. I look at things differently. Like love, and marriage, and til death do us part, and ‘for better or worse.’ I have come to realize that there is something more trying than the death of a spouse. Rosie’s husband didn’t die but so many things in their life did.

Genie's work trucks and equipment

It’s hard to know how to talk about Genie. Sometimes I say ‘Genie did this or was like this’ but Rosie says ‘Gene likes this or does that.’ I don’t want to talk about him as if he had died but he doesn’t do certain things anymore and so it seems weird to say ‘Genie is a person who loves to have interesting philosophical discussions’ because, well, Genie doesn’t have discussions like that anymore. Someone needs to write a handbook on proper protocol for being friends with the wife of a traumatic brain injury patient. Any volunteers?

Often when folks ask about his recovery and I happen to say something like, “if/when he talks again, does this or that again” they will say ‘but he will probably never do that, will he?’ It’s hard to know what to say, because I felt that way at one time, and do realize the strong possibility of that being the situation. But I’ve read of another TBI (traumatic brain injury) patient whose parents said they never allow themselves to think that this may be all the progress she will make. You see, that hope is what keeps them going, that hope sustains them. And I don’t want to kill the hope that sustains Rosie.

How cruel it would be to kill the hope that someday their son would hear his daddy say his name? A little boy whose daddy has never spoken his name, never rocked him to sleep, never lifted him up with strong daddy arms. Elliot isn’t old enough yet to know that his daddy has never done those things because of an accident that occurred three weeks before his birth but his three older siblings know that their Daddy isn’t what Daddy used to be. I hope that Gene will speak again before the children forget the Daddy they used to know.  I hope and pray that someday Elliot will hear his Daddy’s voice. Some may say that we should accept things like they are, and I agree, but we should never, ever, deny each other hope for better tomorrows.

Elliot

The other evening I was sitting out in the yard with Delilah. And as I looked at our nice green lawn I had to think how Life looks like this carpet of grass. The blades of grass stretched out in front of me like the days of our life stretch out before us. And we think ‘wow, so many days’ expecting that we will be one that lives to 70 or 80, or perhaps even 90 if we are lucky (or unlucky depending on your point of view). And because there are so many days it is easy to put things off til tomorrow. I wish I could say that I’m telling you all this because I’ve got it figured out and that I live each day to the fullest with no regrets. Nope, not me. But what did I say about hoping for better tomorrows? If I wouldn’t hope for a better tomorrow then that means I think life can get no better than this. If I think life can get no better than this then why live another day?

(yes there is a blurry spot on the photo, I realized too late that my lense was a tad smudged.)

We all know that our days are numbered and still we often live as if our lives would surely give us another day or week or year. If I really lived as if each day was my last I would not lose my temper with my children. And I would never let my husband leave home without saying I love you. If I really really truly thought that today was my last day here on earth it would transform my actions. It’s not that I’m a mean awful person but too many times I subconsciously think ‘tonight/tomorrow/later I will apologize and do better.’  I have an entire section in my brain devoted to apologies that I think I should make to someone. And yet I don’t. Because there will be a tomorrow, right?

I just love a blue sky with puffy white clouds

The gorgeous sky in the picture above looks so simple, uncomplicated. And maybe that’s why I love it, because Life is anything but simple and uncomplicated. Sometimes we want something, really want it. It may even be something we already have, but we know it’s gonna change, and we don’t want it to change, because we love it the way it is. Like Rosie loved her life with Gene, and then it changed. We want to hold on to those things we love, never let them go, and yet the time comes when we must let go, move on. It may be our husband’s business that we must let go, or our parents as they near life’s end, maybe a place we live at, a job we love, any number of things really. And as we let go of the things that we love let us remember that there is hope. Hope for a better tomorrow.

God bless you, Rosie, as you hope and pray for a better tomorrow. You are my hero.

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Responses

  1. Aw…great post Rachel! You put into words what many of us are feeling!

    • Thanks Mimy!

  2. Rachel, how eloquent & graceful. You have a beautiful mind.

    • Awww, thank you Nieny!

  3. BEAUTIFUL!!!!! Your photos were a beautiful compliment to a great post.


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