Persistance

Monday evening was spent waiting. First waiting for Justin to come home, so that I could take Alexander to the hospital, then waiting in the hospital waiting room, and then waiting for a verdict.
Our poor giraffe was close to dehydration. The verdict was returned that he wasn't dehydrated yet, but close. In order to learn this, they had to take blood. I thought we'd be in trouble and there'd be a fight. Xander is notoriously stubborn. But instead he was exceptionally brave. The reward offered to him for this bravery was a choice between two Ty Beanie Baby Bears. This was not what he wanted and no amount of cajoling was going to convince him that a bear would do. He had heard someone mention stickers in passing and he had set his mind and will on stickers. Which he finally got.
I know that someday his persistence will be a boon. It will serve him well. He will not be easily swayed by world influences. He will be his own man as he is his own boy now.
But sometimes I wish for just a wee bit more compliance. For example, when we had to give him a Gravol. Suppository.

Preparing for Advent

History does repeat itself. Quite frequently, in fact. Take for example Christ the King last year. We were sick. That's how we began the new liturgical year and this year seems no different. Even similar viruses. Last year we braved the weather (-32 C) and drove to Edmonton for the Feast of Christ the King. We did this despite the ominous signs that something viral was headed our way. Justin had been soooo sick just 3 days before. I optimistically figured that no one was going to get it if we hadn't been sick yet. How wrong I was. Patrick was ignominiously sick in the bathroom of the very nice hotel where dinner was hosted. And then again on the way home. And the next day. Then it was Xander, then Rebecca, then Matthew (all 2 months of him - that was very scary), then me and then my Mom, who had so bravely nursed the last of us. This took us to two weeks before Christmas.
So this year, I had planned on attending the Feast, giving a real good week to school and then the remainder of Advent spent readying our home and hearts for the arrival of Baby Jesus. And here we are again, sick. God, I don't know what You're trying to tell me, but I wish I'd get the message sooner than later.

Things I Won't Do For Money

The other day, as I was plucking some disgusting item off of the garbage can, it occurred to me that there are things that I would not do if people paid me. These things include :

1. Changing poopy bums.
2. Scraping a sample of the above into a small receptacle and delivering sample to the doctor.
3. Cleaning up vomit.
4. Cleaning up vomit or otherwise soiled bedding in the middle of the night and offering comfort and a smile.
5. Sharing my bed with a rotating number of people who snore, punch, kick, push, drool or leak.
6. Clean up "mystery" messes.

I can't imagine the circumstances that would induce me to perform the above for money. I will, however, do them for love. Occasionally, I even get a gooey kiss and hug out of it. There is nothing quite like a snuggle from some wee warm body who thinks you can fix everything, to put it all into perspective.

Amen!

Slaying Dragons

This is a valley of suffering, I know. But isn't that reserved for others? For some reason (irrational reason) I thought that God leveled the scales and if you suffered so much here in your life then later on your suffering would be minor. Trust me, I know how irrational that is, and yet there it is. I didn't even know that I thought that until a month ago.
My mom has cancer.
She is very sick.
This disease has laid her body low. She doesn't even have the energy to read. My mom, who always has at least 2 books on the go, isn't reading.
Looking back on the past 6 months, it is evident that something was wrong. A day of shopping would wear her out. She had to rest more and towards the end of summer she spent most of her days laying on the couch, spent by a simple task. The doctors were dismissive. They said that it was old age, a lung infection, a bad cold. My mom in turn, took them at their word and didn't want to be a burden on the health system. She didn't persist. Finally, Dad and I insisted and took her to the emergency department. I went in with her, intent on fighting for her. But a new doctor took her at her word, took a thorough history, ordered x-rays and a CT scan. And it's cancer. I think Mom was shocked the most by the verdict. She thought that she would "feel sicker if it was cancer". But that has come.
There are so many people who care and that's so touching. There are those who mean to help, but their very help is painful. Telling me that it's better if she goes fast, it's easier on everyone. That the average lung cancer patient can expect one year at the outside. One person said I was lucky to have the 10 years with my mom that she didn't have with hers. Maybe I am, but I just want my mom. She's one of my bestest friends and I just want her to get better, so that we can be like we used to be.
I know that I need to see this as an opportunity. For her and Dad to grow closer to God. For me to grow closer to God. I know that this an opportunity to accept God's Will and to know that He is in control, and that His plan is the best. But I can't tonight. Tonight I just want to fight. To be angry and sad.
Tomorrow, I'll be brave and accepting. I will give it all back to God, again. And again and again. But tonight it's mine and I will nurse all this pain and have a real cry.

We suffer on account of God’s patience. And yet, we need his patience. God, who became a lamb, tells us that the world is saved by the Crucified One, not by those who crucified him. The world is redeemed by the patience of God. It is destroyed by the impatience of man.It is really so: the purpose of our lives is to reveal God to men. And only where God is seen does life truly begin. Only when we meet the living God in Christ do we know what life is. We are not some casual and meaningless product of evolution. Each of us is the result of a thought of God. Each of us is willed, each of us is loved, each of us is necessary. There is nothing more beautiful than to be surprised by the Gospel, by the encounter with Christ. There is nothing more beautiful than to know Him and to speak to others of our friendship with Him. The task of the shepherd, the task of the fisher of men, can often seem wearisome. But it is beautiful and wonderful, because it is truly a service to joy, to God’s joy which longs to break into the world."
-Pope Benedict XVI - Inaugural Address