I totally believe that everything happens for a reason. I do. I guess that might be part of my religious beliefs, which are a part of my own homemade religion. I think though, sometimes you just have no business going and asking just what those reasons are. It's a can of worms and it is not productive. I do try and find the lesson and I try really hard to move on in a positive direction. I do, I swear.
I do think my son was sent to me on purpose. My child teaches me more than I can ever teach him. He has been teaching me a lot lately. Perhaps I was a little low in the patience department, so the powers that be decided to test that patience. A lot. Maybe I don't think it's a big deal to take your bathing suit off and put it on the right way, instead of backwards before going out. But to my son, it was monumental. He didn't want to change it. He told me so, rather screamed it so for a half an hour yesterday. He is just starting to have an understanding of empathy, and I think it confuses him. He told me this morning he was sorry for crying. I am sorry for it too. I wish I knew what was going on in his brain right now to be causing so much angst. I know from my psychology books that all change causes anxiety. It is a necessary part of life, critical to moving forward and needed to get to the next step. It's tough for all of us, it's so tough to see your child going through it.
It's all a little tender right now. One of my cousins (actually my dad's cousin's son) just passed away last night. He was 29. I used to babysit for him. When he was little (I believe one or two), he was diagnosed with Leukemia. It was heartbreaking what he had to endure. He was a feisty little guy, always tearing the house apart, full of energy. He beat it, and went on with his life. I am sure that it was always in the back of his and his families mind, lurking in the corners as I am sure it is for anyone with cancer in remission. As I watched him grow up, I always thought he was an old soul in a young body. For all the crap that he went through, how could he not. The rambunctious toddler turned into a very quiet, socially awkward, sweet kind person. The kind of person who would not hurt a fly. He went to the high school where I taught. I couldn't help but think about how his childhood forever changed his path as a person. Could it be the chemicals pumped into him at an early age (which saved his life) or just having to think about all that heavy stuff way too young?
I had heard a few months ago that he had cancer again. The doctors said that it wasn't related to the leukemia. But how could it not be? He was at Sloane-Kettering getting treatment. Apparently, the stem cell treatment caused scarring on his lungs. He had a bout of pneumonia. The other night my parents called and told me they were going to the hospital to say their goodbyes. I was shocked. I had no idea. I think that when I hear of something sad, I instantly translate it into my life. How would I feel? As a mom, it took my breath away. It gives you a little clarity on what's important in life, but it also gives me anxiety thinking that the life you know could be taken away at an instant. I imagine a giant withered hand poking you on the shoulder and a big loud voice saying 'you, you need to come with me' and off you go. I cannot imagine, and I am afraid to even think about, what it must be like for his parents and grandparents right now. The natural order of things is off, way off.
I am so sorry to be such a downer. For me, I spent the morning squeezing the life out of my son telling him over and over again how much I love him. And trying not to feel horribly guilty for all of his tantrums lately. And grateful for all I have. And sad for my cousin and his family.
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