Both literally (my shorties) and figuratively. Especially in comparison to others.
Haiti. Oh, Haiti. I’ve had to stop watching/reading so much coverage. It was killing me. I feel so helpless and over-privileged and ineffective. Those people had nothing to begin with and now have far less. I cannot imagine having one of my shorties alone in debris for EIGHT days. Alone. At the age of 5. And both parents’ deceased not too far away. And the heat, and the stench, and the lack of water, or food, or housing. It is heartbreaking.
Also, a little closer to home, I’ve been reminded of the smallness of my problems. I joined a MOPS group at the beginning of the school year. Didn’t really know what to expect, didn’t really know any of the other moms, but thought I’d give it a try. I get stressed when I have to make a snack and get there early to set up. Our meetings happen to be on days when I also have scouts so that too stresses me out. And sometimes book club falls on the same days. That really stresses me out. And makes for a very,very long day.
But I love it. I love the moms in the group. I love how different and the same we all are. I love having a few hours each month to sit around with grown women in similar circumstances, but without our kids present. We can talk. About whatever. There’s usually a few topics to cover, but we generally get off on other tangents. And sometimes someone feels comfortable enough to share something pretty big. Monday was one of those days.
One of the women in the group has a husband that was in a serious car wreck about a year ago. He was in a coma and came out of it but has a severe brain injury. He is not the man she married. He is changed. He was in a rehab facility a few hours away and she commuted back and forth. Oh, and she has 3 small children. About a month ago, he was moved to a nursing home in our area. And she’s struggling. He used to be a fantastic husband and an involved father. Now he is not. Now he yells, and has no filters. The kids want to see him, but he is not who he used to be to them. He can be very depressed and talk about suicide. She said the doctors refer to it as an incomplete death. Who he was is dead, but he is still alive.
And she’s pissed. Pissed at him, pissed at God, pissed herself, pissed at us, pissed at you. And she has every right to be. She is struggling. She’s been knocked down. And doesn’t know how to get back up. What she doesn’t realize is that she is already standing, feet firmly planted. She has gotten up everyday and done what needed to be done. She is putting one foot in front of the other. Every single day. She is raising three kids, dealing with her husband, figuring out bills, and she’s DOING it. She’s doing it everyday. I am not so sure that I could.
Everyday is a struggle for her and her family. And she has made it through about 365 of them. I am in complete awe of her. Complete. I hope she has a teeny tiny inkling of what a strong woman she is. And how many of us there are that want to do something, anything to help out. We can watch her kids, scrub her toilets, take her out for a martini. Whatever. We would love to help prop her up. Not because she needs it, but because we want to.
And as if that wasn’t enough heartache, one of the other women in the group shared a story as well. She is a mother of four and makes me laugh every time I see her. Her littlest is a shrinky dink version of an old man. He furrows his brow and raises them in surprise. He comes to most meetings since he is still so small. I might steal him one day. Anyway, his mama. A few years ago, she had twins. One only lived for 6 weeks. I get teary just thinking about it. She lost a child. Her baby. And if that wasn’t bad enough, she had a newborn to care for at the same time. I do not know that I could be strong enough to survive it. She said that at least he had actually passed away, unlike the other mom’s husband. At least she had closure. She hadn’t fully grieved, and maybe never would, but she did have closure.
Did you catch that? She saw a silver lining. She somehow saw through her tragedy to see that it could have been worse. That at least she had closure. That her story was not the worst story there was. Amazing. Unbelievable. I cannot even fathom being able to accept something that unfair, that tragic and still come out on the other side. And on the off chance that I made it through, I could not be happy again. Ever. Yet she smiles and laughs and makes me laugh. I cannot comprehend how someone can be that strong.
And strong they are. Both of them. They have been to hell and are somehow making their way back. And they are upright. Standing on their own two feet. Their stories are not defining them. How they survived them is. How they’ve done it and are doing it is a mystery to me. They have stories to share and people that need to hear them.
Yesterday, their stories, they really got to me. They made me start thinking. Though I get annoyed with the Detective at times, he is still the man I married. He can walk and talk and remember our past together. He can snuggle with our kids and tell them stories about the days they were born. And though the shorties drive me nuts, they are here. After they are done throwing a tantrum, they can hug me and tell me they love me. I am a very lucky and blessed woman.
And all the other stuff? I need to put in perspective. Of course my problems are still problems, but they aren’t as big as I have been making them out to be. It is all relative. If scouts is getting to be too much, I can always step back. If our evenings are getting too full, I can stop teaching a class or cancel something. I have those choices. I can make some of my problems go away. I am fortunate enough to have that option.
Does this mean I am not ever going to complain again? No, of course not. We all have problems, and big or small, they are ours. I will still get bitter about things and jaded about others. But I hope I take a few breaths and realize that they will pass.
I hope these moms know they also have people that would love to help them on their journey back. I hope they know that they do not have to be alone on their way. They are so strong, I just hope they know that sometimes it shows strength to ask for help. We can do a lot more together than we can alone.
