(still working on this one not complete)
I don’t remember learning to walk or talk but I do remember watching my girls learn both. They would look at me and try to take that step. Sometimes I would reach out and hold their little hand that would grip mine as they would take assisted steps. I would let go but stay near to see if they could balance on their own. Wobble, wobble, wobble, then poof right down they would go. Each time we did the exercise the wobbles were less and the time standing would increase. In my absence when I wasn’t there to offer assistance they would pull up to things but never let go to walk. It wasn’t long before they took that first step. I remember clapping and hugging and praising. We both had so much joy. Sometimes they would look at me and move that foot almost as if they enjoyed me enjoying them. I miss those days. That celebration transfered to each milestone they achieved. It was a celebration of many first to come. First bike ride without training wheels, learning to skate, academics, sports and then the best of all a relationship with God. It all was so natural to nurture and love and water their garden as they bloomed. They have bloomed to be exceptional children with room to grow as we always have. Can you imagine how their lives would have turned out if when they first pulled up to something I sat them down and scowled at them? What if I said to them, you forced your way here and I am resentful dealing with your presence. Can you imagine me assisting them then letting go and watching them fall only to say it was their own fault for trying? What if I tore up the first paper they brought home from school or analyzed it for not being what I thought it should be. Imagine that first “art project” ending up in the trash. What if their eyes longing for the natural parental relationship and love that should be there, were instead met with disapproval as if they could or had to do something to make me love and accept them? Can you imagine telling that child that the way they are makes you reject them? Even worse telling them that something needs to change to be accepted but you have to guess what that is. A child like that would feel so rejected and would eventually stop trying to gain love and acceptance. They will usually look for it elsewhere in order to get out of the house as fast as they can. They wouldn’t know how win and would lose the desire to. They might see glimpses of hope but eventually the rejection would become so painful they would shut down in that direction.It’s hurtful to even write such imaginations because it hits too close to home. I have been that child in my lifetime in a few situations. I am that child right now.
Yesteday was my birthday. I spent it in silence at work digging in and getting things done. I then went home and prepared to go to the doctor for chest and arm pain. Sitting there alone was hard but necessary. I left there to go home concerned for what my medical condition might be only to further be torn to shreds to my very core. What I started out hearing in shock ended in pain. I can’t describe it all but can say that when nothing changes nothing changes. I have to learn to walk all over again. I feel rejected, totally misunderstood, and shut down which was what I was trying to prevent. I can’t describe how much this hurts, I can’t even talk about it. My art work was my dreams and they are all smashed.
Where’s God. Well that is the good news. God is right here being the first parent, watching me fall and helping me up. Seeing me cry and drying my tears. God is there celebrating whatever I salvage from this. I can look up in any direction and God is there. I need to let him heal this because this time it’s bigger than my ability.
I have become like that child that wants to give up. I have tried to restrain myself from that but can’t. I can’t and don’t desire to continue in the vein I have been traveling. I just want to go home at this point.