Monday, May 25, 2015


I've long been of two minds about summer--ever since Robert's collapse in 1998. That was July. I can't think about what should have been because that serves no purpose. I imagine that other people imagine I would think about that, but I don't. Every now and then a thought will drift around the edge of my consciousness, but the processing part of my brain snatches it and tosses it away. Without any intervention from my own active thought.

Summer ought to represent freedom: no jackets! Short sleeves! The sun on our faces as we lounge in the backyard/at the beach/on a mountain top. Relaxation, fewer obligations.

The inverse, though, is true at my house. When school lets out, the extra nursing hours provided so that Robert can attend school go away. We have to access in greater numbers other resources we relay on throughout the year. The question of what he can do and where he can go. Now that he has a trach, how we travel, if we travel, is up in the air--he needs overnight nursing.

When I envision the summer rolling out ahead of me, bright and shiny, I feel exhausted. Frightened. Can we even make it through another summer? Will we? The hours of each day are puzzle pieces, the days themselves fit together in unusual ways. Hold on, I tell myself, we're going into it, as though summer were a tunnel of darkness, at the other end, the cold steel light of autumn.


Elizabeth said...

Oh, gosh. Yes. While thanking you seems odd, thank you for writing this. Summer is difficult for me as well, althought the measure is quite different. I feel entirely inadequate in the summer -- completely powerless to "give" Sophie what summer means.

Bohemian said...

The opposite is true for me in some ways, but not others. Since The G-Kid Force have more barriers at School and thus the Administration is always dogging me, especially with the Grandson no longer able to take his psyche meds due to failing health from complications of them, the School Year days I dread. I feel entirely inadequate enough with the generational divide in raising Grandchildren to be able to handle School and all it involves, in this Modern age and what is expected and I flounder with myself. Their disabilities are more glaringly obvious in School... outside of School, less so. At Home within the Safety of our version of 'Normal' they feel more Confident, less Anxious, less defined or judged by their disabilities and diagnosis. That said, Summer represents all three being present all day under one roof with only one Caregiver, me... since The Man and each Grandchild have a different point of Need I feel pretty spread thin with absolutely no respite like School represents. So each Season thus has it's particular challenges... it's Joys mixed with it's forms of dread intertwined. But I do so Love Springtime and the rebirth all around me, it Inspires Hope... even when I know Summer and it's scorching heat here in the Desert means fewer Escapes outside our four walls... Big Hug to you as you enter into your Summer Phase... Dawn... The Bohemian