We're giving serious thought to finding a new school for the kids. Several of their friends are already gone, their parents moving them from this parochial setting to either public schools or charter schools; between the transportation headaches for Alex, Rachel not giving a damn one way one the other about school in general, and Kevin having a teacher so homophobic that she's hell bent on forcing her own warped version of what a man is on him, we're questioning the value of keeping them there.
The dissatisfaction has grown from a small kernal of wondering what the hell was starting to happen over the last few years to full blown, WTF this year. The level of education has been above acceptable, that level has been how we've justified the expense, but how the kids are being treated, and how they feel in the current school climate is what bothers us so much. We can deal with Alex having to be carted around all day in order to get his classes in; technically at the end of this semester he can apply to graduate. He has all the credits he needs and will have all the required classes. We've encouraged him to stay in order to have the full high school experience with his friends, but as his friends trickle out the door there are fewer reasons for him to remain there. Half of his friends are doing what he's doing: three classes at the high school in the morning, then being picked up and taken to the community college for the rest of their classes. The other half of his circle of friends is comprised of kids who have left in favor of public school, and a few who are there because their parents are either ultra-Catholic and approve of the climate change, or they're on scholarship and don't want to lose that. He doesn't seem to think it matters particularly what he does; his friends, for the most part, live nearby and if we allow him to graduate he won't lose his social circle. Some of the other things we worry about on his behalf, things like the experience of going to the prom, he says he'll still have. Even if he leaves, he can still go to those things with his girlfriend.
Rachel simply doesn't seem to care about school this year. Most of her friends left over the school year; a few moved, most are now in the public school, but the former friend reminding her day in and day out of how much her life sucks is the little shithead who broke her heart over the summer. She's a personable kid and usually has no trouble making new friends, but the joy of everything seem to have been sucked right out of it for her and she's not even trying. The one person who seems to be looking out for her after Alex leaves campus is, surprisingly, Damien. Yes, that Damien (this is a kid who has changed so much he really isn't the same person anymore.) Kevin says that no matter where Rachel hides in the cafeteria at lunch, or if she's at a bench outside, Damien and his girlfriend find her and sit with her, so she's not alone. But she is adrift.
Kevin, though, has the worst of it this year. This is the first year of junior high, an introductory year, which helps; the sixth grade kids have half a day with one teacher, and then they move between three classes with other teachers. His homeroom teacher, the one he is stuck with most of the day, has decided that Kevin is too effeminate and that it's her lot on life to get him to man up. Her words. "Man up." Without going into specifics, partly to protect him and partly because there very well may be legal remedy involved, she is embracing the Catholic line and seems to believe that her job and his soul depend on getting him to become just another testosterone laden pubescent drone. He was uncertain about her on the first day of school, less certain the second, and distraught by the third. I've already engaged in two discussions with her and another with the school principal, but I don't see her behaviors changing any more than I expect Kevin's to change.
He's had in-school suspension once so far, the school year only a couple of weeks old, for being overheard grumbling, "I'm not gay but you're a royal bitch."
The easy answer is to have him switch classes, and that's likely what will happen. But until that can be facilitated, he's stuck with a teacher who has made up her mind about him in an unfavorable light, judging him for who she thinks he might be and not who he definitely is. She doesn't accept my insistence that he is not old enough to really know who he is and that he should have the support and tolerance of the adults around him while he figures it out, nor does she agree that whatever he might be should be accepted regardless. We must, she seems to think, "pray for him." Unspoken: pray the gay away.
This may be our breaking point.
Alex is ready to move on, Rachel wants to be with her friends, and if the school refuses to support me on Kevin's issues--the likely scenario is that we'll move the kids to other schools. It would be the first time they haven't all attended the same campus, and the first time they haven't had each other to turn to at school.
We are having dinner with Elizabeth's parents tomorrow, because they have many of the same concerns as we do and many of the same questions, and as close as she and Kevin are, if she leaves for a public school, it might be better for his sake if he does as well.
Eventually, I think it's inevitable; it really comes down to when.
Thursday, September 9, 2010
Thursday, August 5, 2010
Really. What?
Ian and Craig will be back here tomorrow; he's checked out of rehab and they're taking a day to just hang together, see a movie, whatever. I looked at several apartments but Craig but wasn't sure what he would really like, so TK offered to let him stay with him for a while; he may be the one person iuniquely qualified to deal with Craig. They know each other but not too well, and TK has a lot of experience dealing with other peoples' problems, leftover skills from his priestly days.
One thing Ian mentioned on the phone was that, even though Craig has a job waiting for him at home, he wants to work while he's here (probably because he's not sure he's ever going back, I think.) I mentioned it casually to my Dad, who right off the bat offered to give Craig a job.
My Dad runs a bar.
Craig is an alcholic.
I have no idea what he was thinking.
Anyway, they'll be back tomorrow and our lives are either going to relax just a tad more or get incredibly compicated. The kids are a mix of excited and hesitant; they want to meet Craig, but we haven't complately shielded them from some of the stupid things he's done, so they're understandly worried.
It'll be fine. Craig only gets one chance, so either the kids will have an uncle they really like, or he'll be gone so fast they won't have a chance to get burned.
But really, what was my dad thinking?
One thing Ian mentioned on the phone was that, even though Craig has a job waiting for him at home, he wants to work while he's here (probably because he's not sure he's ever going back, I think.) I mentioned it casually to my Dad, who right off the bat offered to give Craig a job.
My Dad runs a bar.
Craig is an alcholic.
I have no idea what he was thinking.
Anyway, they'll be back tomorrow and our lives are either going to relax just a tad more or get incredibly compicated. The kids are a mix of excited and hesitant; they want to meet Craig, but we haven't complately shielded them from some of the stupid things he's done, so they're understandly worried.
It'll be fine. Craig only gets one chance, so either the kids will have an uncle they really like, or he'll be gone so fast they won't have a chance to get burned.
But really, what was my dad thinking?
Monday, August 2, 2010
I Ramble
This is our summer of being so completely non-busy that we're busier than ever. It's the first summer that we're both nearly always available to the kids, and the first time they've lived so close to their friends that it doesn't require major planning in order for them to hang out. Granted, there has always been a friend or two hanging around, but that also meant that someone's parents had to drive them all the way out to the sticks, and either Char or I had to drive them back later; that was time consuming and meant that the kids didn't do nearly as much with their friends over summers past.
Since school let out, this house has been dripping with kids. If we don't have plans as a family and we're going to be home, the kids' friends are here, hanging out by the pool, creating more noise than I really care for and eating more food than I thought was possible. But, it's not really a complaint. They're all happy and enjoying life as much as we hoped they would. With their friends hanging out here, we know where they are and what they're doing, even if what they're doing is compelling Char and I to do a hell of a lot of grocery shopping.
This is also Kevin's summer, apparently. He's grown, literally and figuratively. Last year he was still a small kid with child-like tendencies; this year he's half a foot taller, more mature, and losing that little boy look. He's gone from being a nearly shy kid to a very outgoing and social creature, something I don't think would have happened if we hadn't moved. Before, he had two or three friends close friends; these days he's a social butterfly, and better yet, those friends get him. They don't question his occasional affectation, they don't make fun of him when he points out their fashion faux pas; they also don't question why he is the way he is yet still seems attached at the hip to Elizabeth and damn near breathes her name instead of just saying it.
Too late in the summer, really, he decided he wanted to go to camp; we could have gotten him into the last two week session at the camp he wanted to attend, but we waffled hard. His friends get him; other kids might not, and while we know that sooner or later he'll have to face the cruelty that other people can sling at kids who are just a little but different, we just weren't sure that eleven years old is the right age to let him see just how mean people can be.
At the last minute, when we had to say yes or no, Alex told Kevin that camp without his friends would suck, so why not just have a weekend camp in the back yard? He could have a couple of his friends over, they'd sleep in tents outside, use the fire pit as a campfire, and Alex would be their “camp counselor.” There would be swimming, games, anything they really wanted to do, and he promised that none of his friends or Rachel's friends would hang around.
Kevin latched onto it; in the grander scheme of things, he would much prefer to hang with his friends, and if his big brother was going to personally assure a good time, then it was going to be awesome.
Out of necessity, I spent a lot of time this weekend just watching them. Alex and Kevin have the relationship I didn't quite have with my brother. Craig and I were close, sure, but there was always that something in between us, some river or resentment that neither of us could cross. It helps that there are a few years between my boys, and that Kevin looks up to Alex rather than competing with him; still, I watched them this weekend and felt a few too many pangs of what-if.
Craig is essentially done with this part of rehab. He can leave the facility at any time, but hasn't because he doesn't know what his next step should be. He still has a job waiting for him at home, but going home means going back to all his triggers, and the people who are more than happy to drag him back out of sobriety. He is, wisely, reluctant to do that.
He also hasn't asked me what I think he should do. But over the weekend, as we watched our kids entertain each other and Kevin's friends, Char and I talked about it. We both know Craig won't ask, because he feels like we've already done enough and that he should be able to figure out where to go from here. She and I agree, though, he shouldn't be expected to know for sure what his next step should be, and that he should be allowed some paralyzing fear. This is all new for him, and he'll need some support to make it work.
I've been reluctant to let him into my life, for many obvious and not very obvious reasons. My kids don't know him; that was not Craig's choice, but Char's and my decision, made before Kevin was even born. Over the years I've been certain it was the right one; the kids were too young to deal with his personality—though Alex has spoken to him on the phone often enough—and Kevin was far, far too sensitive to even try.
But, things have changed. My kids have changed, and my brother is working very hard at changing. We may never have the relationship my boys have, but we at least have a chance at some sort of relationship. I doubt it will ever be easy, but unless I let a wall down, we'll never know.
If you know me even remotely well, you know how hard it is for me to let anyone peek over that wall, let alone let them over it. But later today I'm getting on a plane so that I can be there when my brother “graduates” from rehab. If he agrees to come with me, while we get him checked out and get his personal stuff in order, Char will rent him an apartment nearby. He can keep working on his sobriety here, away from the things that keep sending him back to drinking and drugs, and with any luck, he and I can start rebuilding our relationship.
I am still reluctant to let him into my kids' lives; I don't think he'd pull any of the kinds of crap on them he has on me, but I'm still not sure what kind of chance he has to stay alive much less sober. But, so many things have changed in the last year—Char's sister showing up and how much she's changed, how the kids are thriving, especially Kevin—that I feel like I need to give him this chance, and by letting him into my life showing him I do have some faith in him.
I'll probably always think he's a damned idiot (still bitter about him trying to sell me to the nuns, I guess) and I'm not sure I'll ever really let my guard completely down, but if I don't give him a reasonable chance, who else will?
Alex gives Kevin chances all the time. He accepts his little brother for who he is and how he is, he embraces it and protects Kevin when he can. I've seen it over and over this summer, and it was so apparent over this weekend. I know there are times when Kevin annoys the hell out of Alex, but he still makes the effort to be what Kevin needs him to be, and I'm certain that's a part of why this has turned out to be Kevin's summer.
That's the least I can do for my brother. If I can't try to be what he needs, when he's trying so hard to be what I need, then I've failed on more fronts than just the brotherhood one.
Since school let out, this house has been dripping with kids. If we don't have plans as a family and we're going to be home, the kids' friends are here, hanging out by the pool, creating more noise than I really care for and eating more food than I thought was possible. But, it's not really a complaint. They're all happy and enjoying life as much as we hoped they would. With their friends hanging out here, we know where they are and what they're doing, even if what they're doing is compelling Char and I to do a hell of a lot of grocery shopping.
This is also Kevin's summer, apparently. He's grown, literally and figuratively. Last year he was still a small kid with child-like tendencies; this year he's half a foot taller, more mature, and losing that little boy look. He's gone from being a nearly shy kid to a very outgoing and social creature, something I don't think would have happened if we hadn't moved. Before, he had two or three friends close friends; these days he's a social butterfly, and better yet, those friends get him. They don't question his occasional affectation, they don't make fun of him when he points out their fashion faux pas; they also don't question why he is the way he is yet still seems attached at the hip to Elizabeth and damn near breathes her name instead of just saying it.
Too late in the summer, really, he decided he wanted to go to camp; we could have gotten him into the last two week session at the camp he wanted to attend, but we waffled hard. His friends get him; other kids might not, and while we know that sooner or later he'll have to face the cruelty that other people can sling at kids who are just a little but different, we just weren't sure that eleven years old is the right age to let him see just how mean people can be.
At the last minute, when we had to say yes or no, Alex told Kevin that camp without his friends would suck, so why not just have a weekend camp in the back yard? He could have a couple of his friends over, they'd sleep in tents outside, use the fire pit as a campfire, and Alex would be their “camp counselor.” There would be swimming, games, anything they really wanted to do, and he promised that none of his friends or Rachel's friends would hang around.
Kevin latched onto it; in the grander scheme of things, he would much prefer to hang with his friends, and if his big brother was going to personally assure a good time, then it was going to be awesome.
Out of necessity, I spent a lot of time this weekend just watching them. Alex and Kevin have the relationship I didn't quite have with my brother. Craig and I were close, sure, but there was always that something in between us, some river or resentment that neither of us could cross. It helps that there are a few years between my boys, and that Kevin looks up to Alex rather than competing with him; still, I watched them this weekend and felt a few too many pangs of what-if.
Craig is essentially done with this part of rehab. He can leave the facility at any time, but hasn't because he doesn't know what his next step should be. He still has a job waiting for him at home, but going home means going back to all his triggers, and the people who are more than happy to drag him back out of sobriety. He is, wisely, reluctant to do that.
He also hasn't asked me what I think he should do. But over the weekend, as we watched our kids entertain each other and Kevin's friends, Char and I talked about it. We both know Craig won't ask, because he feels like we've already done enough and that he should be able to figure out where to go from here. She and I agree, though, he shouldn't be expected to know for sure what his next step should be, and that he should be allowed some paralyzing fear. This is all new for him, and he'll need some support to make it work.
I've been reluctant to let him into my life, for many obvious and not very obvious reasons. My kids don't know him; that was not Craig's choice, but Char's and my decision, made before Kevin was even born. Over the years I've been certain it was the right one; the kids were too young to deal with his personality—though Alex has spoken to him on the phone often enough—and Kevin was far, far too sensitive to even try.
But, things have changed. My kids have changed, and my brother is working very hard at changing. We may never have the relationship my boys have, but we at least have a chance at some sort of relationship. I doubt it will ever be easy, but unless I let a wall down, we'll never know.
If you know me even remotely well, you know how hard it is for me to let anyone peek over that wall, let alone let them over it. But later today I'm getting on a plane so that I can be there when my brother “graduates” from rehab. If he agrees to come with me, while we get him checked out and get his personal stuff in order, Char will rent him an apartment nearby. He can keep working on his sobriety here, away from the things that keep sending him back to drinking and drugs, and with any luck, he and I can start rebuilding our relationship.
I am still reluctant to let him into my kids' lives; I don't think he'd pull any of the kinds of crap on them he has on me, but I'm still not sure what kind of chance he has to stay alive much less sober. But, so many things have changed in the last year—Char's sister showing up and how much she's changed, how the kids are thriving, especially Kevin—that I feel like I need to give him this chance, and by letting him into my life showing him I do have some faith in him.
I'll probably always think he's a damned idiot (still bitter about him trying to sell me to the nuns, I guess) and I'm not sure I'll ever really let my guard completely down, but if I don't give him a reasonable chance, who else will?
Alex gives Kevin chances all the time. He accepts his little brother for who he is and how he is, he embraces it and protects Kevin when he can. I've seen it over and over this summer, and it was so apparent over this weekend. I know there are times when Kevin annoys the hell out of Alex, but he still makes the effort to be what Kevin needs him to be, and I'm certain that's a part of why this has turned out to be Kevin's summer.
That's the least I can do for my brother. If I can't try to be what he needs, when he's trying so hard to be what I need, then I've failed on more fronts than just the brotherhood one.
Saturday, July 17, 2010
How I Know He is FAR Too Involved With the Cat Blogosphere...
I was out late with my sister last night, and Ian tried to wait up for me, but wound up falling asleep on the couch. It was around two in the morning and I tried to gently wake him, just enough so that he could stumble towards the bedroom, and as he started to get up he asked me, quite seriously, "Do you think that when his mom isn't home that Jeter really doesn't get his food mashed up the right way?"
"Who," I needed to know to get the bigger picture, "is Jeter?"
"Skeezix's buddy," he sighed, just short of rolling his eyes at me.
Well, of course, it all makes sense.
"Daisy is his girlfriend," he muttered as he stumbled down the hall. "Skeez's. Not Jeter's."
I'm glad I know that little factoid.
"She's a model."
It took a few moments for the whole thing to sink in; he wasn't talking about people, he was talking about some of his favorite cat bloggers. And while I enjoy a few of the cat blogs, too, I don't beleive I've ever had them quite so firmly on my mind.
Deep down, I think he really wants to know, though. Just how well mashed up is Jeter's food? ;)
"Who," I needed to know to get the bigger picture, "is Jeter?"
"Skeezix's buddy," he sighed, just short of rolling his eyes at me.
Well, of course, it all makes sense.
"Daisy is his girlfriend," he muttered as he stumbled down the hall. "Skeez's. Not Jeter's."
I'm glad I know that little factoid.
"She's a model."
It took a few moments for the whole thing to sink in; he wasn't talking about people, he was talking about some of his favorite cat bloggers. And while I enjoy a few of the cat blogs, too, I don't beleive I've ever had them quite so firmly on my mind.
Deep down, I think he really wants to know, though. Just how well mashed up is Jeter's food? ;)
Sunday, July 11, 2010
Knot tying
Char's sister, Nika, is getting married in October. What started out as them just wanting to get a few people together and run to Vegas to make it official and to party has turned into a small family affair complete with everyone having to rent formal wear or shop for the perfect dress, and a post-ceremony reception in which there will be an annoying DJ, dancing, and a buffet.
This isn't what Peter and Nika had planned on, but when the discussion over Vegas and would kids be included or not, would there be pre-ceremony drinking or not, Brad got very, very quiet, so quiet that it was hanging in the air and slapping everyone upside the head.
I didn't get to be there when your sister got married, and I was damned sure I'd never be there to see you get married. Since I get to see it, I'd like to see it done right.
“Right” in his eyes means the wedding dress, the giving away of the bride, and a minister overseeing it all, not an Elvis impersonator.
The couple has been living together for a few years and don't really care; they just want to finally make it legal. If Brad wants to see his little girl get married with, as he puts it, style and class, then that's what they're going to do.
What he didn't implicitly say, but Char and I both realized, was that he's actually a little ticked off that we rushed into getting married, and didn't take the time to have a “real” wedding ceremony. He would have flown across the country for it; at the time we didn't think he wanted to. So there's some guilt brewing around here, but there's nothing we can do about it now.
If there's going to be a real wedding, there's going to be a best man, matron of honor, bridesmaids, groomsmen, and a honeymoon. And all of that, too, has become a family affair.
Somehow, in the middle of talking about it all, Char and I wound up agreeing to go on Nika and Peter's honeymoon.
The whole concept of a honeymoon is a little outdated, don't you think? We just want to take a short vacation. Come on, this will be fun!
I don't find the concept outdated; I think it's not only normal but important for a newly married couple to celebrate their nuptials privately, no matter how many times they've already seen each other naked. I agreed to the vacation, but only if we meet up with them a couple of days later.
The kids are staying home; they're not happy about it, but hell, they'll get over it. Brad was invited, but that invitation was met with a snort of derision. He'd prefer to stay home and corrupt his grandkids.
It's something to look forward to, anyway. A few days away with Char, in a nice hotel room, even if I do have to place nice with the in-laws. That's a hardship, you know. Spending time with those people. Maybe I'll spend it drunk ;)
This isn't what Peter and Nika had planned on, but when the discussion over Vegas and would kids be included or not, would there be pre-ceremony drinking or not, Brad got very, very quiet, so quiet that it was hanging in the air and slapping everyone upside the head.
I didn't get to be there when your sister got married, and I was damned sure I'd never be there to see you get married. Since I get to see it, I'd like to see it done right.
“Right” in his eyes means the wedding dress, the giving away of the bride, and a minister overseeing it all, not an Elvis impersonator.
The couple has been living together for a few years and don't really care; they just want to finally make it legal. If Brad wants to see his little girl get married with, as he puts it, style and class, then that's what they're going to do.
What he didn't implicitly say, but Char and I both realized, was that he's actually a little ticked off that we rushed into getting married, and didn't take the time to have a “real” wedding ceremony. He would have flown across the country for it; at the time we didn't think he wanted to. So there's some guilt brewing around here, but there's nothing we can do about it now.
If there's going to be a real wedding, there's going to be a best man, matron of honor, bridesmaids, groomsmen, and a honeymoon. And all of that, too, has become a family affair.
Somehow, in the middle of talking about it all, Char and I wound up agreeing to go on Nika and Peter's honeymoon.
The whole concept of a honeymoon is a little outdated, don't you think? We just want to take a short vacation. Come on, this will be fun!
I don't find the concept outdated; I think it's not only normal but important for a newly married couple to celebrate their nuptials privately, no matter how many times they've already seen each other naked. I agreed to the vacation, but only if we meet up with them a couple of days later.
The kids are staying home; they're not happy about it, but hell, they'll get over it. Brad was invited, but that invitation was met with a snort of derision. He'd prefer to stay home and corrupt his grandkids.
It's something to look forward to, anyway. A few days away with Char, in a nice hotel room, even if I do have to place nice with the in-laws. That's a hardship, you know. Spending time with those people. Maybe I'll spend it drunk ;)
Sunday, July 4, 2010
40
Char began and is ending her birthday the same way: just a little bit drunk. Last night she and her sister went out with a few friends to start the celebrating a little early, and celebrate they did. She called home twice; the first time it was to let me know they had changed their plans and would not be going to a movie after dinner, and the second time to let me know that her dad makes the most BITCHIN' Long Island Iced Teas, and that the new backup bartender has BOOBS OUT TO HERE, and I really might want to drive over and take a look for myself, because, she's is so totally hot that I just might switch teams, but you can come watch.
She denies this now.
She was greeted this morning with a chorus of Happy birthday! from all three kids at once (hell, yes, they knew she'd be hung over) and after that she swore she was never drinking again (that lasted until Brad started making daiquiris.)
What she wanted most out of her birthday was a day with family; she didn't want a bunch of stuff (but don't look at me like that, because I bought her a motorcycle a couple of weeks ago and she threatened my junk if I bought anything else), she just wanted to spend it with the people who matter to her. (When she said that, she wasn't counting on having a hangover, but after some Motrin after breakfast and a really tall daiquiri she felt muchbetter.) We fired up the grill, watched the kids play in the pool, had several mock arguments over who got to hold the baby (her birthday, she won), and just enjoyed the day.
But right now she's a little bit tipsy and she and her sister are sitting out by the pool, having fits of laughter over Brad's girlfriend tripping over her own feet and falling into the pool this afternoon (they don't exactly like the woman) and Travis toddling around all afternoon pointing at people and squealing “You hotstf!”
(Hot stuff; when pressed to tell how he learned that, Erin just glared at Miko.)
Granted, Char isn't happy that she's forty, but then again, she is.
I just hope today was exactly what she wanted.
She denies this now.
She was greeted this morning with a chorus of Happy birthday! from all three kids at once (hell, yes, they knew she'd be hung over) and after that she swore she was never drinking again (that lasted until Brad started making daiquiris.)
What she wanted most out of her birthday was a day with family; she didn't want a bunch of stuff (but don't look at me like that, because I bought her a motorcycle a couple of weeks ago and she threatened my junk if I bought anything else), she just wanted to spend it with the people who matter to her. (When she said that, she wasn't counting on having a hangover, but after some Motrin after breakfast and a really tall daiquiri she felt muchbetter.) We fired up the grill, watched the kids play in the pool, had several mock arguments over who got to hold the baby (her birthday, she won), and just enjoyed the day.
But right now she's a little bit tipsy and she and her sister are sitting out by the pool, having fits of laughter over Brad's girlfriend tripping over her own feet and falling into the pool this afternoon (they don't exactly like the woman) and Travis toddling around all afternoon pointing at people and squealing “You hotstf!”
(Hot stuff; when pressed to tell how he learned that, Erin just glared at Miko.)
Granted, Char isn't happy that she's forty, but then again, she is.
I just hope today was exactly what she wanted.
Thursday, July 1, 2010
Every breath she takes...
If I sleep tonight, I'll be surprised. If I sleep tomorrow night, I'll be very surprised. I fully expect that I'll sit up in bed all night long, listening to the sound of breath being inhaled, breath being exhaled. I expect it because all day I have been consumed with the realization that around 10 a.m. tomorrow, it will mark one year since Char drove through an intersection and was very nearly killed by a drunk driver going nearly 80 miles an hour.
Undoubtedly, the driver's family is going through their own agony, remembering that he blew through a red light at nearly 80 miles an hour, and like a bad game of craps, tossed down the dice that would forever alter the trajectories of two families. I don't dwell on them, to be honest. I'm sure that him being dead sucks, but had he lived it might suck worse. All I care about is what he did, and what he did was change my wife's life forever. He ripped her away from the path she was on and slammed her down violently onto another. She had no choice in the matter, but she will live with the consequences of his choices for the rest of her life.
Don't get me wrong; I am grateful beyond my ability to convey that she lived through it and that the aftermath was not far worse than it was. I waited for that other shoe to drop, ready to dive and catch it, but it never did fall. She handled the resulting nightmares well, she powered her way past a few paralyzing memories, and proved to me again and again that she is far stronger than I will ever be, and that she has more grace of forgiveness than I ever will. But as grateful as I am that she wasn't killed and that we have the hope of many, many years to come, I am still angry that it happened in the first place. I am angry that so many choices were taken from her.
She would tell me to let it go; she has told me to let it go, but that hasn't been something I've been able to do. The truth is, if the other driver hadn't killed himself, I probably would have had to be physically restrained from causing him permanent physical harm. I'm not proud of that. But the heartburn of anger has made me realize that my capabilities to cause great harm could likely not be held in check.
Char usually brushes the changes off as nothing; she reminds me that our lives are, in the dying wake of the accident, better than they were. The kids are happier; they're thriving in the new neighborhood and in the availability of both of their parents. I am, aside from unexpected moments of being pissed off, a much calmer person than I was before. Char is more direct with me; she says what she wants and she makes sure I understand how important some things are to her.
But she had to give up a lot. She says it just isn't as important as it was, but I know she misses teaching TKD. She misses jogging with me; hell, I miss her jogging with me and as a result don't get out nearly as often as I did. She hates the reactions she gets from people who haven't seen her since the accident, and she hates the lingering pain. We all hate that the pain is likely permanent.
So yes, I am still angry about it. I haven't been able to let it go, give it over to the universe, whatever. While I am grateful that she was able to create so much good from the turmoil, bringing our family even closer together, I still resent the way it happened.
I resent the hell out of the grandiose selfishness the idiot who hit her must have had.
But, I am grateful. And a year later I am amazed at how far she's come, how far we've all come, and how worth it the fight to get here has been.
She spent her 39th birthday in ICU, too drugged up to speak, in too much pain for more than moderate awareness. This year, her 40th, when she probably would have been complaining about it being forty, we're all celebrating that she gets to turn forty. The woman could have anything she wanted, I would do anything she wanted to mark the occasion, but all she wants is her family around her. she wants to spend the day with the kids, her father and sister and almost brother-in-law, and with our niece and grandkids and You're-Here-Again? Dack and Theresa and TK. So that's what she's getting; she doesn't want stuff, she wants us.
And cake. A very large spice cake sprinkled with cinnamon and powdered sugar, and God help anyone who get in between it and the birthday girl.
But tonight, there's a very good chance I will sit up in bed to listen to her breathe, and trust me, I will treasure every breath she takes.
Undoubtedly, the driver's family is going through their own agony, remembering that he blew through a red light at nearly 80 miles an hour, and like a bad game of craps, tossed down the dice that would forever alter the trajectories of two families. I don't dwell on them, to be honest. I'm sure that him being dead sucks, but had he lived it might suck worse. All I care about is what he did, and what he did was change my wife's life forever. He ripped her away from the path she was on and slammed her down violently onto another. She had no choice in the matter, but she will live with the consequences of his choices for the rest of her life.
Don't get me wrong; I am grateful beyond my ability to convey that she lived through it and that the aftermath was not far worse than it was. I waited for that other shoe to drop, ready to dive and catch it, but it never did fall. She handled the resulting nightmares well, she powered her way past a few paralyzing memories, and proved to me again and again that she is far stronger than I will ever be, and that she has more grace of forgiveness than I ever will. But as grateful as I am that she wasn't killed and that we have the hope of many, many years to come, I am still angry that it happened in the first place. I am angry that so many choices were taken from her.
She would tell me to let it go; she has told me to let it go, but that hasn't been something I've been able to do. The truth is, if the other driver hadn't killed himself, I probably would have had to be physically restrained from causing him permanent physical harm. I'm not proud of that. But the heartburn of anger has made me realize that my capabilities to cause great harm could likely not be held in check.
Char usually brushes the changes off as nothing; she reminds me that our lives are, in the dying wake of the accident, better than they were. The kids are happier; they're thriving in the new neighborhood and in the availability of both of their parents. I am, aside from unexpected moments of being pissed off, a much calmer person than I was before. Char is more direct with me; she says what she wants and she makes sure I understand how important some things are to her.
But she had to give up a lot. She says it just isn't as important as it was, but I know she misses teaching TKD. She misses jogging with me; hell, I miss her jogging with me and as a result don't get out nearly as often as I did. She hates the reactions she gets from people who haven't seen her since the accident, and she hates the lingering pain. We all hate that the pain is likely permanent.
So yes, I am still angry about it. I haven't been able to let it go, give it over to the universe, whatever. While I am grateful that she was able to create so much good from the turmoil, bringing our family even closer together, I still resent the way it happened.
I resent the hell out of the grandiose selfishness the idiot who hit her must have had.
But, I am grateful. And a year later I am amazed at how far she's come, how far we've all come, and how worth it the fight to get here has been.
She spent her 39th birthday in ICU, too drugged up to speak, in too much pain for more than moderate awareness. This year, her 40th, when she probably would have been complaining about it being forty, we're all celebrating that she gets to turn forty. The woman could have anything she wanted, I would do anything she wanted to mark the occasion, but all she wants is her family around her. she wants to spend the day with the kids, her father and sister and almost brother-in-law, and with our niece and grandkids and You're-Here-Again? Dack and Theresa and TK. So that's what she's getting; she doesn't want stuff, she wants us.
And cake. A very large spice cake sprinkled with cinnamon and powdered sugar, and God help anyone who get in between it and the birthday girl.
But tonight, there's a very good chance I will sit up in bed to listen to her breathe, and trust me, I will treasure every breath she takes.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)