The evil is easy...the uncontrolled chaos, though I am not
much of a fan of even the controlled chaos, that too gets trying. It's like trying to empty a lake with a
measuring cup after the dam breaks. I
can control the fact that water is indeed leaving the lake, but cannot control
how much water is coming back in.
Bradley's medical problems are so constant and such a point of
survivability that his developmental goals are always mocking me. What have you done for my brain lately
mom? I want to nurture his brain, but
always feel like I am trying to nurture that brain so much I can't be certain
that I am building it at the same time.
I move along smoothly and then see another four year old who is
completely verbal and reading and it draws me up short. I'm not doing enough and no matter what I do,
it will never be enough. I can't find
enough hours in the day. And like mighty
wings, I feel that beat at me. I know he
is not going to discover the cure for Cancer, but there are scientists that are
pretty close, so I don't know that they need him anyway. I just want him to know all that he can know. And
for the record, those scientists are definitely not on the phone calling me for
help either.
And then there are these butterflies that keep coming up in
my life, and right now they are the ones that have my attention the most. You see at nine years old my daughters have
each hit that moment in their lives when they realize that our time here on
earth is not permanent, that there will be a moment when each of us will
die. I don't know why nine is so hard in
our family, but there it is. When my
oldest was nine, her brother was having major surgeries that had mom and dad
away for weeks at a time. She would wake
up at night and cry herself back to sleep alone in her bed. My passionate, dramatic one, refused to climb
out of bed and share her fear and grief with her grandmother, choosing to go it
alone in her bed in the middle of the night.
And she fought these demons for months, even to a year before she broke
down one night and shared them with me. I
felt horrible that she hadn't shared this with me, but I also felt
dumbfounded...I mean she shares everything else with me, (everything!) how
could I have known she was holding out on me?
My middle girl? Her trouble started at age eight, but I
didn't realize the catastrophic events had occurred to shape her fears. And it all goes back to the butterflies! We kept the class butterflies over Spring
Break, watched them hatch and fly away...a truly wonderful experience. But there was this one, some of you know
about this, as I have written about this before. We had the one that climbed out of its chrysalis
at the bottom of the cage and had special wings. Its wings didn't straighten out so it
couldn't fly, not knowing what else to do we promised our frantic daughter that
we would take care of this little guy for its lifespan.... Unfortunately, it died at 10 days and not the
expected 14 days. The coincidence of
having a special winged butterfly with a special boy with an extra chromosome
was noted by Eric and I, but it was also noted by my Sydney. When her butterfly died, her world crumbled,
and with it came all the worries and fears for her brother that we never knew
she carried, I don't think she even knew.
Perhaps it was the loss, the realization that something that was
different and not as strong as the others, had failed to thrive and then had
died - but now our nine year old has fears of her brother dying. Scenarios in her head of us going to the
hospital, then calling her to tell her Bradley was not well, then our cousin
coming to get her at school because Bradley was gone. Dream, imagination or fear...not sure which
but she is plagued by them.
So I gave her a box and told her she could put her worries
in it so that God would get them. I
explained how the worry goes from her heart to God's ear, but the physical box
helps her to learn to let go of her worries and her prayers. Let go, let God. It seems to help, well...except she has this
concept that God is like the Tooth Fairy.
Not that she expects money, she just thinks he should be taking her
letters with him. What can I say, she's
really literal. ;-) After a little more explaining, so far so
good. And then the movie "Heaven is
For Real" came out, and because I had read the book I was hoping that maybe
it would be just what she needed. What
both my little warriors need to help them feel comforted by their Faith. And of course, there were butterflies in the
movie. Their symbolism touching me more
than being pivotal to the movie, but important to our family. Important to my sudden understanding of how
the life lessons of witnessing the
butterfly cycle of life a year ago has triggered a deeper understanding of what
her brother is going through and how important he is to not only his whole
family, but how important he is to her.
As if Sydney has graduated into the world of worry about someone she
deeply loves and stands alongside her sister who has lived there for a few
years already. Now, the four of us are
connected in yet another deeper, more emotional way than we had been before. Really great movie, incredible book - we
all enjoyed it very much. What struck me
was that both girls at different moments, have since asked me if I think that
Bradley has seen Jesus. If during one of
these procedures he's had, do I think it's possible that he saw Jesus. I doubt I will ever know because when Bradley
is old enough to express himself I am not sure he would remember back that far,
but as I told the girls..."Do I feel better thinking that Bradley might
have been safe in the lap of Jesus, far away from the pain while he was in his
surgeries? You bet I do." Do I
feel better with my daughters believing the same thing, you bet I do.
As I mentioned, there is the good too. The good is the best part. The good comes with the sound of Sydney's
delight and certainty that every butterfly she sees is somehow related to the
ones that she set free last year. The
good comes when Bradley and I rub noses and share butterfly kisses followed by
the sweetest smile and sloppiest of kisses.
The better comes when he tries to initiate those kisses. The best kind of chaos? Watching when these three kids start playing
together, when the giggles begin and the squeals signal sheer delight. Sometimes you just have to learn to juge in chaos and hope for the best. :-)
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