Where would one begin, when they feel as if they are in midst of a never ending turbulent storm?
Where would one begin, while recognizing the depth of their inner struggle with their own limited strength and inner voice?
I suppose one would simply start from the beginning, in hope that while traveling back to the raw, intense depth of challenge, they may come to find meaning…and creativity.
So here I am.
Since my last post, I thought the sunny rays were pushing through the clouds. Since then, I’ve had my doubts that there is a sun.
Last Thursday as I lay in bed, ankle elevated, I participated in a very important appointment with a team of doctors, from departments I never knew existed.
So….the blessing is, that they discovered why our sweet little boy has been having bouts of pneumonia and has limited his food intake to rice krispies and rice milk.
Chaim Boruch has been swallowing all his saliva and food straight into his airway….and into his lungs.
Phrases like “worst case they have ever seen” and “Surgery for a GI feeding tube” pierced my entire being that was already wracked with worry, concern and my own weakened state.
Surrender. Trust. Surrender.
No easy task. Nothing I profess to be remotely good at.
The sun seemed to recede even more from view or existence, as the following day brought us, a very sick Chaim Boruch with a high fever and other symptoms of concern.
Emergency room visits which lead to being admitted to a room at a most incredible hospital called UCSF.
My husband. My son. And my Heart. All in one room. With much equipment including love, care and prayer.
Tests. IV. A symphony of doctors and nurses, orchestrating the millions of variables connected to my son.
It has been 5 long days without seeing either of them, while experiencing what I could only describe as a zip line of my heart.
The intense motion, speed and unknowing direction of the pangs of fear mixed with much emotion.
And I feel the sunshine recede even more.
Yesterday my little shliach was given an NG tube. A feeding tube through his nose as we await surgery for a GI tube to be placed.
I am not ready. How could I be? A broken ankle, a broken heart…a feeding tube.
Not what I had ever imagined.
And slowly, the sun’s rays seem to break through.
They peek out with warmth, from the storm.
A mighty storm that only I have created.
This is what life is all about.
It’s that very seemingly unsurmountable peek at the top of my mountain.
Just Hashem and I.
Climbing together, He by my side, despite my lack of grace, trust and ability to surrender. And I am grateful.
But it is time.
Time to let my heart bask in the bright beautiful rays and the warmth on my face.
Time to close my eyes to my storm and let it subside and disappear.
Time to adjust my lens, focus on all I am grateful for, and shine.
Tonight I will smile as Chaim Boruch comes home.
I will look past the tubes.
I will look past my storm.
Straight into the heart of a special soul.
Welcome home Chaim Boruch.
The sun is out.
I am ready to shine.