Our “new” Anne is very different than our “old” Anne, but some of those differences are good… Anne has much more freedom of expression, and she has been much happier lately. When she’s happy, she squeals… literally, she squeals with delight! This is a conversation that Eric had with Anne during one of her “squealing” sessions…
Eric: Anne, God has shown me something about you.
Anne: What daddy?
Eric: God has given you the gift of joy.
Anne: But daddy, my name means “grace.”
Eric: You’re right! It is by God’s grace that He has enabled you to have much joy!
Anne’s joy in the midst of struggle is a picture of God’s amazing grace to us!!! That’s something to squeal about :-)
Acceptance. It’s the 5th and final stage of grief. And I can’t… quite… get… there.
I’m so tired of feeling sad and desperate. How long could this grieving thing possibly take? I know I must be slower than most everyone else, right? It’s just like a woman to compare herself to others. The idea is ridiculous…
Ideal Griever: “Well, I moved through all five stages of grief in just 5 months. I spent one month on each stage. Very efficient, eh? What about you, where are you in your grieving process?”
Me: Well, I don’t know… I bounce back and forth between stage 3 & 4 – and then sometimes I find myself living back in stage 1 (denial) just to survive the day-to-day, ya know?
Ideal Griever: And how long has it been since the accident?
Me: Um, we just passed the 18 month mark.
Ideal Griever: Oh.
Ludicrous, right? Well, I just wish it was simpler sometimes – more clear-cut. Grieve and done. Let’s just get. it. done. But God doesn’t work that way. His carvings take time… painful time.
I think one complication is that there are so many different things to grieve. I’ve grieved losing the old Anne and all of her unique little ways. I’ve grieved the freedom of having all of my children be mobile and independent. Now I find myself grieving Anne’s health. She has seizures. She is unpredictable. She is demanding. She’s not whole. You can feel the sunken place on her skull where the brain tissue has atrophied from the damage. My sweet Anne is broken – a fragile jar of clay – and we are left learning how to compensate.
“But we have this treasure in jars of clay, to show that the surpassing power belongs to God and not to us” (2 Cor. 4:7). God always shows me that I am the same as Anne… I am a broken jar of clay – in desperate need of surpassing power. I think we all are. Don’t you?
Eric and I are celebrating our 14th wedding anniversary today. I confess, I’m not that great at celebrating. I’ve always been a bit boring in that category – or maybe I should spin it as “low maintenance.” Yeah, that sounds better :-)
Mile markers are healthy. I’m thankful I was blissfully oblivious to God’s plan for us when we married that day. Thankfully, tragedy hasn’t split us apart, and we continue to fight to stay connected.
This week is marked by a different type of celebration though… a much sadder type. Eric’s grandmother, we believe, is living the last few days of her life under hospice care. She is 96 years old, so we are thankful for her long and full life! Eric was always especially close to his grandmother. He has spent too many hours bedside… First was his mom (named Anne), who died at home after years of fighting brain cancer. Then there was our second little Anne – and all the hours wondering if she would die too – and now his grandmother.
Years after his mom died, I was sorting through her old photographs and found a picture of Eric in his college days. She had hand-written on the back, “My sweet Eric.” …my sentiments exactly!
Sorry for the silence. Canon and Kate had fall-break last week (while Anne’s school was still in session) so I tried to make the most of my time with just those two. I think we squeezed a lot in our mornings, and the two munchkins had good attitudes as they went to all of Anne’s therapy sessions in the afternoons.
Time has a way of healing. When I look at Anne – I see more of our ‘new’ Anne and my longings for the ‘old’ Anne aren’t painfully sharp… they’ve become dull. I don’t think the longings will ever go away – especially as I open my fingers to acceptance more and more. But acceptance is coming easier, and the longings seem more like happy memories than sharp reminders of loss. Time heals.
God is sweet to open my eyes to His work in Anne. She has a way of bringing blessing to others – complete strangers are taken with her. We’re often late as she engages anyone (who will listen) in conversation. We were at Canon’s ballgame on Saturday, and a woman I barely recognized walked up and didn’t speak to me – but to Anne. Anne remembered her name (I sure didn’t), and the woman had remembered to bring Anne a gift. Anne beamed as she held her new, pink, little Mermaid workbook.
I think it’s a privilege to be Anne’s mom. I’m awfully grateful ;-)
For Anne to gain more control of her impulsiveness which can be a distraction in the classroom (talking out of turn, mouthing inappropriate objects, reaching for and touching others when she should keep her hands to herself, etc.)
For Anne’s left ankle… for it to loosen and strengthen so she can support her weight on her left foot without her braces;
For Anne’s seizures to cease or be controlled with appropriate medication,
And lastly, for Anne to continue to wrestle with God’s goodness and love for her – and ultimately for her to grow to be a faithful woman of God!
I’ve been struggling lately to keep the pace. Sometimes I wonder if I just have unrealistic expectations of myself. On paper, my schedule seems very manageable… but then again, I’ve always struggled with discipline and consistency. sigh.
I think one of the issues is that everything feels relentless. Anne’s schedule is relentless. The morning routine of getting all the kids to school (on time) is relentless. Anne’s needs are relentless – and the afternoons filled with therapy and carpool and dinner preparation and homework and. and. and…
One of the reasons we chose to send Canon and Kate to school (instead of homeschooling them) was to give me more margin in my life. I’m supposed to have more time now. Hmm. It doesn’t feel like it.
I don’t think I’m alone in this struggle. Our culture is so “full” that most people I know are constantly trying to fight against filling their schedules. Maybe it’s just the emotional baggage of Anne’s disabilities that make me feel. so. heavy. Or maybe it’s my inability to think past today – which makes weekly meal planning challenging ;-) Or maybe I need to have a few more glasses of wine – but I don’t really like wine.
Actually, the only real answer is Jesus. He’s the simple Sunday School answer for everything – but in Him are depths of knowledge and wisdom and… joy. Joy. I think I just need an extra dose of joy. I sure ain’t finding it in all of my striving. Jesus, will you give me joy?
May 18, 2010… This was a date placed on the ACCA school calendar months earlier – the last Chick-fil-A “spirit night” of the year. Lots of schools do this sort of thing – a percentage of the profits goes to the school – good for business – good for the school. Everybody wins.
But that Spirit night was different. My little girl was in a hospital room – still unable to sit or speak. Barely a month removed from our accident – the community was still reeling. A student named Kelsey asked the school board if they would donate the proceeds from the Chick-fil-A spirit night to our family. A small school event turned into a community-wide gathering as the Chick-fil-A operator hosted two locations (instead of the usual one) and both restaurants were packed for the night. It was a cool story. I wrote about it here.
Tuesday was ACCA’s first Chick-fil-A spirit night of the year. I couldn’t help but think of the contrasts. Anne was with us – sitting, eating, talking…conversing with people. She asked to see the “cow.” She asked for ice cream. She was with us. I knew WAY more people there than last time. I had relationships with so many families – because of Anne’s journey.
I’m thankful for this road God has led us down. So many heartaches – but they fade to memory in light of the many triumphs. We are so thankful. So. very. thankful.
Today was Anne’s 7th birthday! I can’t believe my little Anne is 7!
Anne has been telling everyone all week that her birthday was coming up.. “My birthday is September 9th. I am turning seven!” Last year, she wasn’t able to express much emotion, and I remember wondering if she even realized it was her birthday… She’s come a long way over the past year!!!
I’m not very good at planning social events – so my kids’ birthday celebrations have always been more practical than extravagent :-) But I really wanted Anne to feel special today. The birthday festivities started at school. She had a large “Happy Birthday” sign on the back of her chair. I signed up to be the “Mystery Reader” for her class. I was impressed as Anne sat still and attended as I read her two favorite books to her class. I brought a special birthday treat for everyone, and after the kids finished, we all sang “Happy Birthday” to Anne. I wish I could have gotten a picture of her smile. It covered her whole face. She was radiant. When the class finished, she said, “Thank you everyone for singing Happy Birthday to me.” So sweet.
I invited some of her favorite girls to come over for a small dinner. Again, I was impressed when she tried to smile for the camera. Anne hasn’t quite learned how to smile on cue – but she was sure trying in this picture!
Kate had a good time helping Anne open all of her presents.
I think she felt special today. Happy Birthday Anne!!!!
For Anne to continue to do well in school; and for her to gain more control of her impulsiveness which can be a distraction in the classroom (talking out of turn, mouthing inappropriate objects, reaching for and touching others when she should keep her hands to herself, etc.)
For Anne’s left ankle… for it to loosen and strengthen so she can support her weight on her left foot without her braces;
For Anne’s seizures to cease or be controlled with appropriate medication,
And lastly, for Anne to continue to wrestle with God’s goodness and love for her – and ultimately for her to grow to be a faithful woman of God!
So a typical ride in our van includes lots of music on the radio – specifically from our local Christian radio station, 104.7 The Fish. We get in the van, and one of the kids will say, “turn on the radio.” And a song will come on, and everyone starts singing – including Anne. And then almost always – right when a really good part of the song is about to play, Anne will say, “Turn it off.”
Now… her reasons for wanting the music off is different than what you would expect. After I turn off the radio, Anne will ALWAYS ask me about a specific lyric that she’s heard and what it means. “What does ‘justified’ mean Mommy?” Ugh. Have you ever tried explaining “justification” to a six year old with a brain injury? But miraculously, Anne’s comprehension – especially for spiritual concepts – is amazing. When I finish answering her question about the lyrics, she will then say, “Okay, mommy. Turn it back on, so I can listen to what it means.”
So all of this is a backdrop for something funny that happened today. It was just Anne and me in the car. Third Day’s song, Love Song, starting playing. If you aren’t familiar with this song, it’s important to know that it’s sung from Jesus’ point of view – as if He were singing us a love song (hence, the title :-)
So in typical Anne fashion she asks me to turn off the radio. And when there is silence she asks, “Who is singing the song, Mommy? Is Jesus singing this song?” So, being really excited that she would ‘get’ that part of the song, I said, “Yes, Anne! Jesus is singing this song. ” To which Anne replied (with a mix of sincerity and amazement), “Wow! Jesus is a really good singer.”
I think Mac Powell (Third Day’s lead singer) would be flattered :-)
Crayons In My Water 