TODAY!! This happened…

Two things happened this morning, one huge and one just wonderful. OK! Wonderful first:

Today I realized I have done at least one parenting job right. As we all worked to get ready for the day — which is quite a scene, even with our reduced census, all that hair and makeup and getting Jack into the crate (we  hate to say goodbye, so it’s quite drawn out some mornings) — my daughters were talking about some iSomethings (you can add “pod, touch, nano and shuffle” and you will know as much as I do) their friends have.

We, save for one second generation iPod shuffle, have none of those things. And I am not planning to buy them, either.

But my girls were talking about this group of kids they adore and the electronic stash they have among themselves. As I listened about movies on tiny screens and this feature and that, it dawned on me…my daughters had nothing but delight for their friends in their voices. Not a note of jealousy, feigned disdain or whiny entitlement was to be heard.

Like a choir of angels it was! Meaning, somehow, I managed not to blow that parenting assignment. OK, yes, this is a written pat on the back for myself, but I don’t care…it was like seeing the first daffodils outside. Unexpectedly wonderful and a bright spot of hope.

Alrighty then, let’s move on to HUGE! And, yes, I realize I have used up a year’s allotment of exclamation points in this post.

Today, as I applied makeup in the same spot my husband died (well, a few feet higher to be precise), I asked myself my usual question — will mascara be a good idea today? The answer is almost always “No. Nope, forget it, it’s too embarrassing when it runs.”

And, as always, on the heels of that reasoning comes the cloud my guilt trails behind like toxic gas: “If you would have just called the ambulance sooner, David might be alive.”

But today, TODAY, in a blinding flash came another thought, “Yep, alive and in crushing agony.”

People often talk to me about the suddenness of David’s death. And it totally was — sudden and terrible in how it came about.

What I don’t talk about enough is what preceded that Jan. 27.

In April, 2008, David had an industrial accident that caused a spinal cord injury. A severe enough event that a surgeon later told me it was a miracle my sweet boy was able to get up and walk, after being knocked unconscious.

His spinal cord swelled, becoming a Nerf ball crammed into a Lifesaver candy.

It happened just over nine months before he died, a detail I find fascinating — just about enough time to be birthed into a new life.

The surgery meant to stabilize his neck came two months later and added a bonus serving of torture, a pile atop his already-severe suffering.

It never dissipated. In the last months of his life David was, at best, highly uncomfortable. At worst and most, in absolutely excruciating pain.

Hasn’t every loving spouse of an ill person longed to absorb some of the load? Yes, of course, because that’s what a good relationship means — a sharing of woes, an innate desire to alleviate suffering in the other.

I know I said this before, what Grandpa Vern told me, that I was left behind to do the hardest work of all — to grieve.

And TODAY, this very morning, my heart accepted that. I DID take over David’s suffering. He WOULD have continued to be in unbearable torment, wishing he could die and be done. I AM here, Baby Boy, to take this on my shoulders.

Exactly what I would have chosen to do, my love, because you had had enough.

Grandpa Vern is right, David. It’s my turn. Not calling the ambulance in time came at exactly the right moment for you.

And I finally BELIEVE it! But I should not have worn mascara.

I’m buying pizza for the newsroom today, it’s that kind of day. Anyone need a hug? C’mon over! It’s on David.

Happy!

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