I went for a walk yesterday with Sophie in her stroller, and my frustration and anger only grew as I bounced over roots in the sidewalk and struggled to maneuver the stroller over curbs not cut away for the handicapped. A litany of complaints, bourgeois, the sun was still shining, and when Sophie had a huge seizure, I stopped and bent over her, containing her limbs as they banged and her back arched up and out, the strap straining between her legs, my breath a curse, many curses. That's how we do it, sometimes, pissed and bitter and filled not with blessing but with imprecation. That's how we do it. Afterward, we rolled down a side street and I sat on the stoop of someone's house and cried as Sophie continued to jerk, her hands plucking at the jacket draped over her. We sat there a long time in our separate worlds, and when I snapped the photo, I did it blindly the light in my eyes.
I know the feeling of coming out of a seizure, limbs weak and mind numb to experience my parents crying around me. I felt sad that I was putting my parents through that kind of pain but the other side of the coin was that I felt so loved. I'm sure that, at a deep level, Sophie feels that love.
ReplyDeleteI think that at the bottom of all of this, you do it through love (which is NOT always patient and kind and whatever but is often bitter and so what? you are human) and I do think that, as tropicalpenguin said, Sophie must feel that love. What else can there be?
ReplyDeleteEvery time I read a post in this series I end up wondering even more how you do it.
ReplyDeleteyou snapped a magical photo of your girl, the light splashing down around her, loving her, as you do. i wonder so much about Sophie's internal life, all the things she knows but cannot tell you in words, but perhaps you know anyway. not perhaps. you do.
ReplyDeleteSometimes, we are not grateful. Word verification: poetwor.
ReplyDeleteit makes me feel so lonely for you two sitting there on the stoop. I wish I could have stopped and sat with you .
ReplyDeletehope that your daughter feels your love, just as I hope my own daughter feels mine. What else can there be indeed Ms Moon?
ReplyDeletePerhaps some situations can only be powered through with quite a bit of bitterness and imprecation. Or we would stop. And that isn't an option?
But what would I know.
A beautiful photograph.
That is a beautiful photo. There's something here about beauty amid the misery of such a frustrating, horrible morning, but I'm not sure how to express it without sounding trite.
ReplyDeleteAnd yes, like Birdie, I do wonder more and more how you do it -- but Ms Moon hits the nail on the head when she says "love."
I find this picture of Sophie beautiful...as well as the honesty in this post. You are a very good mother.
ReplyDeleteI am sitting here with tears in my eyes, feeling frustration and resignation and sadness come through your words. I am so grateful that this medium exists so that you can share your experience and we can share our support and love for you and your family. I hope you feel it rushing toward you.
ReplyDeleteLove.
ReplyDeleteI agree with Birdie and Ms. Moon. I feel stunned, every time. How do you do it? You just do, I guess. Every way is fine.
ReplyDeleteWhen I took my mum out in her walker or her wheelchair, I was forever complaining/advocating about handicapped accessibility.
ReplyDeleteIt ain't easy. Sending hugs. If you lived nearby they would be real hugs and not just virtual hugs. Take care woman.
You call it "how we do it"
ReplyDeleteMaybe it should be "why we do it"
Because the how is in the why
Love
i'm right there with you.
ReplyDelete