Entering a new place in my family life

It started yesterday.  I picked up Melanie from band practice and she tells me that TJ called her and could he come over tomorrow?  I asked what for.  She tells me he has asked her to be his girlfriend.  WOW, I have been waiting for this, but I was totally unprepared for it actually happening.  She’s 15 and most of her friends have boyfriends.  Melanie just never seemed interested in anyone, so I never asked.  He’s a sweet kid.  What impressed me most is that his dad, Chris, called to make sure that there would be an adult home.  Wow, he sounds like me.  Yes, I assured him, I would be home.  Guests are not allowed in the house without Joshua or I being home. 

We’ll see how this goes.  I think they both are first timers into the teen dating scene.  This just reminds me that she’s not a kid anymore, she’s becoming a responsible young woman.  WOW.

Mike is Growing Up

For those of you that don’t know, Mike is my son.  Parents sometimes (especially when they are teens) “forget” how old their child is, then something happens and you are forced back into reality with how old they really are.  Mike is 17.  I am not ready to admit/accept that he is almost an adult and has started to make his own decisions.  My journey of being thrust back into reality started with a damn scrapbook.

At graduation parties, is is typical to see a “growing up” photo album of the grad.  This was mentioned to me when I told a friend I was working to organize the boxes and boxes of pictures I have.  She mentioned the grad book, and I filed it in my brain in that far away, not gonna happen anytime soon folder. 

Two weeks ago, we attended a grad party for a friend of the family’s.  Sitting there next to the presents was THE BOOK.  And it hit me.  Like a thunderbolt.  Mike is 17, he will be a senior in the fall.  He will start applying to colleges.  He will leave home.  All of these thoughts were swirling in my head like a tornado.  I had to sit down, I got a little dizzy.

Eventually the tornado stopped and I thought about THE BOOK.  If I started it now, then I could go slow, selecting pictures and momentos that meant a lot to Mike, not just some photo album thrown together at the last minute.  I envisioned something he would enjoy and take with him into adulthood.  I started filling the book this weekend.  The first pages are pictures of him at birth, so beautiful and tiny.  I made it through his first Christmas and birthday alright.  I lost it when I came across a picture of Mike standing in a hospital room, al kinds of wires connected to him to watch his heart.  His arms were outstretched, showing the bruises, war wounds of his heart surgery the day before.  He was almost 3.  I remember the day the photo was taken.  Mike wanted to show off what he called his “special radio”.  I didn’t want to take the picture.  I didn’t want to remember that he would have died without this surgery.  I didn’t want to remember how he suffered the torture of multiple hospital visits, and all the pokes and prods and tests and x-rays.

I asked Mike, did he want this photo in the book?  Yes, he said.  How else would anyone know he was a survivor?  His surgery was executed through catheters run through his femoral and brachial arteries.  No scars, he said, just the picture.  It was at this moment that I knew Mike was ready to be a senior, to look for colleges, to be a man, and to be an adult.

So the picture is in the book.  Mike was right, it should be there.  If it wasn’t for that surgery, there would be no senior night, no SAT’s, no prom, no Michael.  I am so proud of his insight, his ability to think of situations differently than most.  I know that I will spend this summer preparing myself for all the activities being a senior involves, but I know that Mike is ready.   

Memorial Day, a chance to remember Dad

Memorial Day is one of the few days I let myself think about my dad, Charlie (if you knew him thru my mom, it was Chuck, if you met him personally, it was Charlie).  I remember all the parades me and my siblings were subjected to on the military bases we grew up on.  Charlie was a SeaBee.  He served his country proudly for 22 years.  It was tough being Charlie’s daughter (or Charlie’s Angel as he so nauseatingly referred to me and my sibs).  He wasn’t a very good dad as dads go.  I wasn’t a boy, so what the hell could he do with me?  He had a lot of issues from his own childhood but never discussed them openly.  He was a good time Charlie, great friend, great soldier/carpenter, lousy father.  At 34, I guess I have to live with that.  Charlie died March 31, 1999 of lung cancer.  I was 25.  Sometimes I think it’s too hard to think of him daily, I want to cry for the loss of him, or to ask why I could never be good enough in his eyes.   So on Memorial Day 2008, I think of Charlie and his dedication to his craft and country.  No disgruntled daughter here.  I will always be proud of my father’s military career.  It’s the rest of the stuff I am in therapy for.

Against the Odds, a story of determination

The first time I met Laura, my mother-in-law, she flew in to Key West to attend her youngest son’s (my future hubby) graduation from high school.  She was smart, sassy, and beautiful.  I loved her instantly.  Not because I knew that Joshua and I were serious, far from it.  It was because of her grace, and her smile. 

Laura was born  in 1943 with a tethered spinal cord and the docs diagnosed spina bifida.  They told Laura’s parents that she would never walk or talk, she was probably sterile, that she’d be mentally retarded and the best thing they could do for her is institutionalize her.  Against the doctors orders, Bill and Elsye took their daughter home.  Bill refused to believe his child would be a living vegetable.  He KNEW she was on this earth for a reason.

Due to Laura’s tethered cord, she had no feeling below the waist, but she did have muscle control.  Bill taught her how to “feel her full belly” to know when she needed to use the bathroom.  They taught her how to walk with special braces on her legs (think Forest Gump).  They treated her just like they treated their youngest daughter, Theressa.  Laura started kindergarten and it was plain to see that all the doctors predictions about Laura were going to be false.  Throughout her school years and into college, she was an honor student, active in clubs, and with the exception of her physical limitations with her walking, she was treated like all the other kids at school.

Bill’s determination toward Laura proved that children with Spina Bifida COULD lead a more normal life.

Laura married Paul in a Methodist church in Memphis.  They met at a USO dance, Paul was in the Navy.  They lived in Maine, Texas, and several places in Florida.  Paul and Laura had 2 children (again proving the docs wrong), Tim and Joshua (my husband). 

Whenever I think I can’t do something or am afraid to try something new, I think of Laura.  Her health has deteriorated in the last few years.  She now uses a scooter, and a walker to get around.  She can still walk short distances, but it is painful.  Throughout everything in her life, she has been graceful, beautiful, and smart doesn’t even begin to describe her abilities.

In her professional life, she has been a social worker for the city of Key West, for a Jewish retirement home in Memphis, designer of the farm exhibit at the Memphis Zoo (quite spectacular, if you ever get a chance to visit).  She also coordinated the first crisis help line in Monroe County Florida.  She has done a lot with her life.

Joshua has vacation in a few weeks and we are driving to Memphis for the week.  I wouldn’t want to live there (I like my non-city livin), but I LOVE to visit.  We never do much when we go down.  It’s enough just to sit in her backyard and talk, eat good southern food, and watch the kids and the dogs.

Of all the people in my life, Laura has been an absolute source of strength for me.  She is a remarkable woman, a good mom, a wonderful grandmother of 3 boys and 1 girl.  She is more than the mother of my husband.  She is my friend.