Joy&Pain (A Mini-Grieving Series)

The call came. About six days early. Our publisher left the message on my cell phone at noon: "They're here." They're HERE! Our labor of love had come home from NICU--the printer. After nine months of active gestation, in September our team sent our babe to the printer. And now our baby was coming home from the hospital.

It was four hours before I could complete my meetings and commitments in another part of town and arrive at our publisher's office. As I made the drive across town what I did feel was not Joy. I was confused at my "lack" and began to examine my feelings. What I did feel was Pain. My daughter's psychiatrist again had seen the abnormal activity during her neurofeedback session that afternoon. He urged me to call our neurologist and schedule an EEG. This after learning that our health insurance might end early spring after an audit. If we get the boot in March, then we are responsible for paying for all expenses incurred in January and February. (And people DON'T want Healthcare Reform?!) When I called the neurologist's office the soonest appointment I could get was late December and I must see him before an EEG is ordered. And those things aren't scheduled quickly. Sigh. Worry. Fret. Wring hands. That was what I was doing as I made the trek across town. Only, instead of wringing my hands, they clenched the steering wheel.

Once I examined and diagnosed the feelings, giving them names, I traveled a couple more miles. I had put the top down. It was a gorgeous 70 degrees back dropped by lushness of yellow and orange maples. I switched off NPR. I just could not deal with injustices in Iraq right now. I decided to wrap my feelings. I envisioned centering them in a square of thick, silk Japanese cloth, wrapping them up, one side at a time, overlapping the corners over the bundle. Then I envisioned putting that bundle of wrinkled-brow worry on a shelf. This allowed me to tap into the excitement that my first book was hot off the press.

Ironically, I thought later, I had written a book about 18 families living with autism and all the while, I, too, was living with autism. I'd been in this place before.  Knowing that Grace has seizures is not new. We've just been able to not have to treat them until last year and then with a very mild drug. But things appear to have changed. And I thought about my philosophy and what I know is true: It. Will. Be. Okay.  Five years ago, fresh from my divorce, I learned that Grace was experiencing benign myoclonic seizures. I told a friend who had raised a son with autism and had endured way more than I will ever experience on many fronts. She told me this simple truth: "Oh, well. You'll deal." To some that might sound like an unsympathetic response. But D. and I laughed. We both knew she was right. I will deal. And I did. And I will continue.

So. Back to Joy. Our book is beautiful. After months of arduous labor, our photographer-designer-author/project originator & coordinator (that's me) and our publisher had pulled it off. I took it with me to the salon where I purchased hair goo. To the office supply store where I bought felt tip pens to sign it, meanwhile showing it to the tech help who'd rescue my laptop that had survived a summer of writing only to crash two weeks after we sent the book to bed. I enjoyed the oohs and the ahhs, the stunned and admiring looks as I shared it with the staff I knew at both locations....Okay. Yeah. I can do this. I can do Joy. I can. And, isn't that Life after all? A mixture of Pain...but redeemed...by Joy. And that part about the health insurance...it may not happen. It is a possibility, but my thoughts had leaped, soared and astroplaned to a place in the future. A place. That. Does. Not. Exist. And may never. So, I'm going back to the present. And feeling...Joy.

Our book is out. WOOT!

Join us at our Book Launch--a photography exhibit and book signing--Sunday, November 15, 3-5 p.m., L. Greer Gallery, Edgehill Village. More events to follow!

Comments

[Mary@The Writer's Block]

I REALLY enjoy your writing. Your way with words, the way you give so much of yourself to the reader. Lovely post!

[Leisa A. Hammett]

Mary, that means a lot coming from another writer! Thank you.

[Jamie]

Congratulations Leisa!!!

[Leisa A. Hammett]

Thank you!