Monday, January 16, 2017

An Unwelcome Anniversary Observed with a Grateful Heart

It's been a year today since Sam was assaulted. 

Last night my son was texting me right before his beloved Packers took on the Cowboys. He was giving me a countdown, "71 min away" until the game started. A year ago, he was doing the exact same thing ... texting me about the Packers as he left his home to join friends at a local bar to watch his favorite team play. This year, he watched it from his apartment in Portland.

Son Sam and daughter Molly, December 2016.
His life today, thankfully, is very much the same as it was prior to January 16, 2016. Yet, it's different.

Today ... I have so many feelings. Good feelings. Bad feelings. A few sad feelings. All of ‘em.

After he was assaulted on January 16, 2016, he spent weeks in the hospital, went to rehab, had two surgeries, went through outpatient therapy, has taken mind-numbing amounts of medication, spent months recovering and, thankfully, today is doing well. 

On Sunday, January 17, 2016, I woke up to missed messages from Bridget. Within a few hours, I was on a plane to Portland. It was a scary time, and I was looking for a little hope. I found it in small acts of kindness in the weeks to come. The first act of kindness in Portland was a cab driver who, after hearing that my son was injured, gave me a free ride to the hospital. Then, as Bridget and I sat by Sam’s hospital bed day after day, the nurse made us peanut butter and jelly sandwiches from his own lunch stash. Then, a young 49ers fan heard Sam’s story and bought him a Packers jersey. It is those little moments, those acts of kindness that have stuck with me, that make the story easier to tell, and has always made it easier to bear.

I have this habit, that I use both professionally and personally, that helps me get through difficult days. When things get tough or overwhelming, I try to imagine where I will be a year from that moment. I imagine that I will look back at the thing scared me, and realize I accomplished the task, got through it, made it work, whatever. I focus on one day at a time, until I can look back and know that I made it. That's what I did on that first day, and week, while Sam was in the hospital, I focused on where we would be a year from then, that we could get through it. Because no matter what, the next year was coming, and I couldn't stop time from marching on. 

Because today is what it is (and we made it through the year!), it is a day to celebrate that Sam is happy and healthy. He is back in school. He is enjoying the benefits of living in the beautiful city of Portland. He and Bridget are enjoying their new normal. The new normal is that Sam can’t drive (dizziness and a seizure) and he suffers from constant headaches. The new normal is daily meds. The new normal has also been time to recover, time to read, time to focus on being healthy, and time to enjoy family. (Thank you GoFundMe donors!). 

Today is also a day for me to reflect on why this happened and why the perpetrators haven’t been punished. I wonder if they ever think of Sam. I wonder if they care. I hate that I am angry, and I wish there was something that could make me feel better. Today, I am just waiting for some kind of closure in the case. Waiting. WAITING. It can be frustrating.

Bridget, Sam and Molly, December 2016.
Today (and every day), I feel much love for my son and daughter, and how blessed I am to be their mom. I feel thankful today for Bridget, how she loves my son and my family. I feel thankful for my parents, my partner Dan, and my friends (near and far). I feel blessed to have laughter in my life. My kids are hilarious, and they made me laugh every day they were home during the holidays, and I'm happy they were here, and thankful for every moment with them. 

This year has changed me. I’m trying to be more mindful, more understanding and more forgiving. I’m trying to remember that we all have our struggles, our crosses to bear, and we are all doing the best we can. I remember to say a prayer every day for those who need it, and to send silent thanks to everyone who has done the same for me. I will always be grateful. 

I want to thank Legacy Emanuel Hospital; Dr. Kent Grewe, Sam's neurosurgeon; and all of the nurses who took such amazing care of Sam while he was hospitalized. They saved him, and me. I want to thank the Legacy Rehabilitation Institute of Oregon who made sure he was ready to go home, so many months ago.

I am so thankful to everyone who reads this blog; who asks about Sam, Bridget and Molly; who keeps us in their prayers; who sends heartfelt messages (especially Jamilyne and Nancy, whom I’ve never met but continue to reach out to me); and to my family.

I'm thankful for my co-workers in the Corporate Marketing Division at Arkansas Blue Cross and Blue Shield. When I got to work today, I was feeling very emotional, teary. They KNEW I would I be a little shaky, so they left me to my work with minimal interruption, and gave me a sweet card signed by each of them, letting me know they cared. Wow. So very thoughtful. 

I’ve learned from this experience. I’ve learned that most people, at their core, are good and caring and generous. I’ve learned that I can be as strong as I need to be. I’ve learned there is NOTHING more important than your family; hold them close. 

Prayers Needed
There are a few other people on my mind today, who have suffered tremendous losses in the past few weeks, or who are battling disease. Pray for strength for them ... for Traci H., a friend of mind who lost her beautiful 17-year-old daughter to complications from ulcerative colitis; for Carla R., another friend who lost her precious son to teen suicide. And, please pray for Kayne Finley, a young man who is fighting a brain tumor. Here is his story ... https://www.facebook.com/groups/cannonballsforKayne/

Thank you for reading this blog, and thinking of my sweet family.