Today was NOT a glass-is-half-full day. I thought it was going to be, but I let things get in the way. We drove to the city this morning to picke up a commode chair for my mom. The one that we got from her caregiver in the nursing home has a very strong smell of cigarette smoke, which isn't going away, and is now permeating the bathroom walls. With current finances what they are, I thought I'd try to find a replacement on Craig's List.
And I did! A new or next to new commode chair. The only hitch was the location, as it meant driving to SF. With our current road closures, it's no longer a quick trip. When we got there, someone was parked in the same general area we wanted to be. It looked like they were just finishing up something in the back of their SUV, so I drove around the block and just as we drove up, they drove off.
I parked the car and Chantí and I headed up the three flights of stairs. We were greeted at the door by a very pleasant woman, who said she'd walk downstairs with us and show us where she had put the commode. As we rounded the last section of stairs, she said something to the effect that it was gone. Immediately, I knew what had happened. The original ad also offered a shower chair. Those people in the SUV were picking up the shower chair - and my mother's new commode!
The very pleasant woman was mortified. She said "They didn't even come upstairs and let me know they were here. She is a physical therapist and said she only wanted the shower chair, she did NOT want the commode!" Well, I guess she changed her mind. I was a little taken aback that the woman didn't even go upstairs and introduce herself, since this equipment was practically new and was being given away.
What bothered me the most about this whole incident though was how it threw me! I could hardly blink back my tears when I realized that we had lost out on the commode. And then I was furious. I think what really got to me the most was that we'd most likely seen the commode culprits, and had I just parked behind them we would no longer have a smoke-smelling commode in my mom's bathroom.
I've been trying to convince myself all day that something good will come of this, but so far...I haven't found it.
01 May 2006
Happy Birthday, Joshua
Fifteen years ago tomorrow, my son Joshua Lee was born. At that point my world changed. Six weeks later, it changed again when it took a sharp turn to the left when I learned that Joshua had ALS, also known as spinal muscular atrophy; the same disease that Lou Gherig had.
I was frightened, angry, and scared. My emotions ran the gamut. But from somewhere deep inside, a voice told me that I needed to be in control of myself in order to give this sweet baby a happy life as long as he was here. He was going to take his cues from me, and I needed to show him love and joy. We had seven months together. Joshua died the day before Thanksgiving, 1991.
Today I have the most wonderful little daughter imaginable. Yes, I'm really really proud of her. She has a heart that is just beyond comprehension. In March we were talking about her birthday, and she wanted to know when Joshua's birthday was. I told her May 2. She then wondered if her teacher, Miss Thea, would let her take cupcakes to school to celebrate his birthday.
Last night I thought about Joshua and the fact that his birthday was coming up. I didn't dwell upon it. In fact, this may sound like a betrayal, but if Josh had lived, I probably never would have met Chantí, and I'm not sure that I ever loved Josh the way that I love Chantí. Part of that is probably because we just never had the chance. We didn't get a lot of time together. Anyway, I thought of his birthday yesterday, and that was the end of it. Or so I thought.
Today, on the way home from school, Chantí clapped her hand over her mouth and said, "Oh! Tomorrow I have to tell Miss Thea that it is Joshua's birthday. My baby brother Joshua...well, really he's my big brother but he never got a chance to grow big. Mommy, can we go see Joshua tomorrow?" I can't even describe how it felt to have my sweet little Chantí remembering this very special day - particularly when I hadn't yet thought of it myself. I told her yes, we will go to the cemetery, and this time we will take something for him. (Chantí is actually responsible for more visits to the cemetery than I would probably make on my own. Almost every time we drive by, she asks if we can go see Joshua.)
We proceeded downtown and after stocking up at the feed store on yet more rabbit supplies (he ate his straw mat), we went across the street to the store that sells windsocks and pinwheels. We selected a large, triple decker pinwheel with rainbows of satin ribbons. I started to balk at the price - it was $14.95 - but then I reminded myself that for a dollar a year, it was well worth it.
Tomorrow after school, Chantí, my mother, and Chantí's best friend who will be here for their standing Tuesday playdate will go to the cemetery to visit Joshua and take him his new pinwheel. Chantí will explain to her friend who Joshua was, although I've already heard her talking about him to her on previous playdates. And I will thank God once again for the gift that I have in Chantí. Chantí is not the consolation prize. She is the grand prize.
I was frightened, angry, and scared. My emotions ran the gamut. But from somewhere deep inside, a voice told me that I needed to be in control of myself in order to give this sweet baby a happy life as long as he was here. He was going to take his cues from me, and I needed to show him love and joy. We had seven months together. Joshua died the day before Thanksgiving, 1991.
Today I have the most wonderful little daughter imaginable. Yes, I'm really really proud of her. She has a heart that is just beyond comprehension. In March we were talking about her birthday, and she wanted to know when Joshua's birthday was. I told her May 2. She then wondered if her teacher, Miss Thea, would let her take cupcakes to school to celebrate his birthday.
Last night I thought about Joshua and the fact that his birthday was coming up. I didn't dwell upon it. In fact, this may sound like a betrayal, but if Josh had lived, I probably never would have met Chantí, and I'm not sure that I ever loved Josh the way that I love Chantí. Part of that is probably because we just never had the chance. We didn't get a lot of time together. Anyway, I thought of his birthday yesterday, and that was the end of it. Or so I thought.
Today, on the way home from school, Chantí clapped her hand over her mouth and said, "Oh! Tomorrow I have to tell Miss Thea that it is Joshua's birthday. My baby brother Joshua...well, really he's my big brother but he never got a chance to grow big. Mommy, can we go see Joshua tomorrow?" I can't even describe how it felt to have my sweet little Chantí remembering this very special day - particularly when I hadn't yet thought of it myself. I told her yes, we will go to the cemetery, and this time we will take something for him. (Chantí is actually responsible for more visits to the cemetery than I would probably make on my own. Almost every time we drive by, she asks if we can go see Joshua.)
We proceeded downtown and after stocking up at the feed store on yet more rabbit supplies (he ate his straw mat), we went across the street to the store that sells windsocks and pinwheels. We selected a large, triple decker pinwheel with rainbows of satin ribbons. I started to balk at the price - it was $14.95 - but then I reminded myself that for a dollar a year, it was well worth it.
Tomorrow after school, Chantí, my mother, and Chantí's best friend who will be here for their standing Tuesday playdate will go to the cemetery to visit Joshua and take him his new pinwheel. Chantí will explain to her friend who Joshua was, although I've already heard her talking about him to her on previous playdates. And I will thank God once again for the gift that I have in Chantí. Chantí is not the consolation prize. She is the grand prize.
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)