Last week I looked up and him and stated " It's like an arranged marriage..that I arranged." I'm finding we are having to adjust to this journey called marriage once again. I think every marriage goes through ups and downs, but honestly, a head injury and personality changes are not something in which I have found much support on. We both laughed at my statement, as we attempt to keep a sense of humor in this situation. Laughing with each other has always been something we are good at... at least there are some constants in life.
When we speak to the physicians, counselors and myriad of other professionals, I find they are ill equipped to offer us much more than a sympathetic look, and agreement that "this just sucks." I am told over and over how lucky we are to have him still with us and how blessed he is to have me as his wife.
I just want to have a good ol' southern tizzy. I want to have a break down right here, kick my feet... and gasp...maybe throw something?! I have too many people counting on me to allow much more than a moment of feeling sorry for myself. This must be an "acceptable way" to deal with these stresses as I get a nod of approval from everyone and isn't that what we southern girls live for?
I really just want to ask if in their years of schooling they were ever taught anything other than writing a prescription? Or maybe what I really want is a prescription for this ...something to mask all the struggle and pain our family is dealing with at this time. I don't want their sympathetic looks. I want my husband back. I can imagine facing families dealing with losses can be one of the hardest parts of being in the medical field, so in my understanding, I just nod and smile and let them " off the hook."
The other day, Lil' Bit had a writing assignment for English. She had me proof read her essay. It was on her family's struggle with her dad's injury, and the aftermath of his accident. She spoke how sometimes it feels as if she lost her dad and there is someone here in his place. Though she struggles with it, she is secure in the fact she will always be his little girl. I smile and I at least feel secure in that we must be giving our kids pretty good coping skills.
So for all the moments I miss... the dancing in the kitchen, going for walks, date night every few weeks, we struggle to find moments of connection in new ways. Sitting in the sunshine enjoying the chickens and goats, seeing if we can make it just a little further down the driveway each time we walk, listening to the rain hit the roof. As the brain must rewire itself after a serious injury, sometimes, so must a family. I'm just holding out for this dark night to fade into a new dawn... I think my biggest fear is that it won't. As we face those fears, we come to a newer understanding of life and family. They say the truth will set you free. They never promised it would be easy. This is life... for better or worse.