Unrelenting loss

Time heals all wounds?

All wounds?

It's true that time may dull the pain of a wound, but heal it?

No.

A friend described loss as a hole that never goes away. It's gets smaller, but it is always there.

I think the hole analogy is closer to the truth.

Two days ago my son fell at the park and broke his arm. I, his mom, swooped him up and spent the next 24 hours making sure he was taken care of, mended. That's what most moms do, right?

That's what my mom did for me 33 years ago. 

It happened on the spiderweb at school. I had gathered all my courage and bravely climbed to the very top. I cautiously dangled my legs through the triangle hole and grabbed the bars with a steely death grip. I took a breath and let myself fall through the triangle hole. There I dangled from the top of the web. Terrified to let go, unable to climb back up.

Eventually my grip gave way. Truth be told I though the bratty boy from my class loosened my grip, by the years have made me unsure. Does it really matter? My grip came loose and I fell, fell to the ground and exactly on top of my left leg. I cried out in pain. A friend told me if I was hurt to crawl out of the web. I couldn't move. The next thing I remember is being in the nurses office. My mom was there with me. The nurse put an inflatable cast over my leg and my principal carried me to the car. My mom drove me to the hospital. She spend that next weeks making sure I was taken care of and mending.

In an attempt to distract my son from his broken arm during our ER wait, I told him my story. My story of breaking my leg. However, when I got to the part about my mom coming to get me, I could feel the rush of emotion race my face. In an effort to hold back my sobs, I stopped. I couldn't move. I made attempts to finish, to tell him my mom came and took care of me, but i couldn't get the words out. When I looked at my boys, I could see the emotion rush to their faces. Their eyes filled with tears.

I wanted my mom to come and take care of me.

I wanted her to tell me how to care for my son and his broken arm. How did she do it with me?

I wanted her to tell me it was going to be okay. 

I wanted to tell her how inadequate to handle this I felt and for her to tell me, only as she could, that I could do it. I had to do it.

It's been almost four years since she died.

My friend's analogy of loss being like a hole that gets smaller, 

It's true.

I've learned there are going to be times when memories push their way through the hole, making it large, gaping once more.

The unrelenting pain of the loss.

The hole will get smaller again. 

It will mend.

Like my leg did all those years ago.

Like my son's arm will.

Healing will come.

Grateful for a broken arm?

Yesterday, Ben fell off the monkey bars at the park and broke his right arm. 

Charlie, Ben and I rode our bikes to listen to the Irish music in the park. After listening for a while, we decided to ride over to another park/playground area. We got our bikes situated. The boys ran off to play and I sat down and began to check a text I had received. All of the sudden I heard Ben crying. When I ran over to him to help him, I noticed the unnatural curve in his arm and knew it was broken. 

Did I mention we were rode our bikes?! 

I called Todd, who was at a youth group meeting. 
His phone was silenced because he was teaching. 

I tried a neighbor, but was unable to reach them. 

I must not have been hiding my concern (panic) very well, because Charlie got upset, started crying and saying, “my baby brother broke his arm!”. 

I thought, “No, not you too Charlie, I need you to hold on!” Then I remembered a friend from church lived across the street from the park. 

After deciding that I could carry Ben and take the bikes, I ditched the bikes and we ran to my friend’s house. 
Thank GOD she was home! 
She answered the door and I lost it. 
Thankfully she was able to understand that Ben broke his arm, we rode our bikes and I needed a ride home. She said, “Take my van, I’ll get your bikes. We’ll take care of everything tomorrow.” Charlie, Ben and I hopped in her van and headed for the hospital. 

Poor Ben cried the whole way. I can’t imagine the pain he must have been in.

Charlie did a good job talking to Ben and trying to distract him. 

We (finally) arrived at the hospital a little after 8 pm. Ben was such a champ. 

There was a lot of waiting, but x-rays confirmed he broke his radial and ulna. What was unclear was if it was going to take surgery to fix it or not. We were referred to an orthopedic clinic, but after talking to our pediatrician, we ended up at Gillette. Gillette apparently couldn’t get the x-rays from hospital, so we couldn’t give Ben anything to eat until after he was seen. 
His appointment was at 2:45pm. 
We gave him juice this morning and then he slept for a good three hours. 
Thankfully (I’m sure it was because of all the prayers offered on Ben’s behalf) he didn’t need to have surgery. 
In fact, the ortho doctor manipulated Ben’s cast and was able to significantly correct the break. 
Again, Ben was such a troop through the whole thing. He was acting like it didn’t hurt. That is until the doctor kept squeezing and manipulation his break. He finally started to cry and asked when she was going to stop. 
Poor Guy. 
After she was done, Ben was immediately able to eat the snack I brought for him. 

Ben was given the choice of whatever he wanted to eat. He chose spaghetti and meatballs from Noodles. When I cut his noodles and meatballs, he looked at me. Then looked at his cast covered right hand. "How am I supposed to eat with this?" he asked. I told him he was going to have to use his left hand. That should be interesting these next several weeks.

We have to head back to Gillette on next week to ensure things are healing properly. 

I'm so thankful for all the calls, texts, email, and especially for the prayers. When I put Ben to bed last night, I was so grateful. 
Really? I felt grateful? 
I was surprised myself. 
I was grateful he didn’t fall on his head, 
break his leg or his back. 
Grateful that even though my phone calls for help weren’t answered, when I remembered my friend who lived close by, she was so willing to help-no question. 
Grateful that today the answer to my prayer for no surgery was answered (with the answer I wanted). 
Grateful that Ben seems to be having less pain than expected. 
Grateful that I wasn’t alone with the boys in the park. 
Grateful that even in the midst of everything, Ben started singing 
“My God is so big and so strong and so mighty. 
There’s nothing my God cannot do.” 

So true Ben, so true.