Being a Parent

My Sister's Keeper by Jodi Picoult. Page 229

When I first became a parent I used to lie in bed at night and imagine the most horrible succession of maladies: the bite of a jellyfish, the taste of a poisonous berry, the smile of a dangerous stranger, the dive into a shallow pool. There are so many ways a child can be harmed that it seems nearly impossible one person alone could succeed at keeping him safe. As my children got older, the hazards only changed: inhaling glue, playing with matches, small pink pills sold behind the bleachers of the middle school. You can stay up all night and still not count all the ways to lose the people you love.

It seems to me, now that this is more than just a hypothetical, that a parent falls one of two ways when told a child has a fatal disease. Either you dissolve into a puddle, or you take the blow on the cheek and force yourself to lift your face again for more. In this, we probably look a lot like patients.

Even though Patrick's illness is not really life threatening I still understand the above. We have a dr. appt Monday to listen again to the fact that his tumor is back. Once again we will have to deal with surgeries and all that goes with it. I wonder like most parents if there is something that I could have done differently. I want to dissolve into a puddle, but I stick my chin out and ask for more. What else can I do?

Lost

I am in a place that I have no idea where I am or how I got here. All I know is that I don't like it. I don't like the way I feel, I don't like anything about this place. It's dark and ugly and I feel terrible. It's not like a pit, I've been in one of those before. I can always seem to climb out of those. This is different. This is like being totally isolated, totally on an island. I think this is what it must be like for prisoners that are in solitary. Not that I'm alone, I know I'm not. But I feel like such a disappointment, such a let down in every way. I feel as far away as possible. I have knowledge, I have awareness, but not closeness.

I have gone so far away, I have slowly walked in a total opposite direction without really knowing that I was doing that. I'm here and am not quite sure how I got here or why. I remember the path and I remember walking but it all seems like a dream. Why would I follow this path, did I know I was following this path? Had I known I would get this lost? Would I have tried to stop myself? Why was I not paying attention? Where exactly was my mind? My heart?

How do I get back? How do I become that prodigal that returns? How and where do I find the strength to do that? Lost, how do you find you way home? Can you even get home? How to begin, where to start? Fallen, how to you get back on? Can you get back on track once you've been lost? Is it to late?