Community

 

     com·mu·ni·ty

         kəˈmyo͞onədē/

        noun

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2.    1.

      a feeling of fellowship with others, as a result of sharing common attitudes, interests, and goals.

   
   

      "the sense of community that organized religion can provide"

 

A dear friend of mine, David, used to say "you build community wherever you go".  He was a world traveler with fascinating experiences to share and valuable life lessons to teach.  He was brilliant and undeniably left an indelible mark on this world before Cancer took him in 2013.

This phrase has always stuck with me...yet until this week I never fully understood its impact and power.

 

I got word on Tuesday that another lifelong friend, Jes, was moved to Hospice after an all too long and difficult fight with Cancer.  It has finally taken its toll on her amazingly strong body and spirit.  I sat there in a daze trying to figure out what to do, how to help, why any of this was happening.  I felt lost and confused and full of dread for what was to come.
 

As I walked into Hospice that first day after getting the news, my anxiety was at an all time high.  Here I was in a beautiful, yet somber building, in an unfamiliar town, not knowing what to expect and definitely not wanting to be there in the first place.  As I stepped through the doors of her room, I was greeted by a room full of faces, both familiar and new.  Some of these people I had known for a lifetime yet hadn't seen in years, some I knew more superficially, but most I had never even met until that moment.  

 

As the hours and days have worn on, I have spent a LOT of time in that room with these people.  I have learned their names, their stories, who they "belong" to/with. I have slowly figured out their connections.  And they have learned mine.  Each of them has welcomed me in with (literal) open arms.  As the only "past" person there in a room full of blood relatives, family, and friends who live richly in her "present", I haven't once felt like an outsider.  Instead, I have come to count on these people for strength, updates, and support.  I look forward to seeing them again every day.  Hospice has since become a place of love and camaraderie, jokes and playfulness (as odd as that sounds).  I have found solace there in this group of people feeling the same feelings and walking the same path.  We each have our role to play - caregiver, meal planner, information sharer, medical expert, shift scheduler, comic relief...Our contributions are all different but each part makes up a whole.  Each of us is a piece in the puzzle of community that we have built around Jes, her family and each other. 

 

We are no longer strangers from different towns, backgrounds and times in Jes's life.  We are suddenly a COMMUNITY of friends, united by a common love for this amazing woman and a shared sadness for the journey we were traveling with her.  This amazing community she has built around her makes me both proud and sad.  I am so proud (and not surprised in the least) that Jes has this rich group of amazing people that love and adore her as much as I do.  However, I am sad that I didn't know many of them until now.  I am also immensely relieved to know that her husband and three wonderful boys will continue to have the love and support of these fabulous people to carry them through the next few weeks, months and years.

 

Shortly after she was diagnosed with cancer, I was talking online with Jes and wrote, "We'll get through this, my dear. You're not alone. Now is when all your years of being wonderful to everyone else will come back to provide strength and support for you!  Because you have earned all the love that we will now shower on you :)".  These words were genuine and sincere at the time yet somehow I never quite knew just HOW true and genuine they would become. 

Our journey together is not yet over, though the end does appear to draw near.  Please pray for peace for my dear Jes.   

This is Anxiety

Tonight has been pure hell.  I know people don't understand.  And plenty of people think I've created a monster, or that the way I choose to handle things only exacerbates the situation, or worse yet, that I am being manipulated and controlled by some sort of 8-year-old sociopath.  I assure you, however, I am trying my damnedest to navigate this road as gracefully and sensitively as possible.

For those wondering what I'm talking about, my 8-year-old, Alex, has developed a nasty "case" of anxiety.  It started in the last 6 months or so and focuses itself primarily on weather but more generally on safety (feeling safe, being healthy, etc.).  Leaving the house suddenly makes him feel unsafe and uneasy, especially if there is any chance of wind, precipitation, or heck, a change in barometric pressure of any kind (I exaggerated there a smidge.)   I have seen this anxiousness surface in situations where people are sick or hurt (e.g. Daddy had surgery for a hernia a few weeks ago and Alex was uber concerned that Dad "was ok" and would "be ok" indefinitely).  Of course this increased nervousness also increases his need to be attached to me in true Velcro Boy fashion.  But the most frustrating part is that it manifests in the most unexpected places and times (e.g. on board a naval battleship for a Scout overnight that we've done twice before wherein Alex suddenly expressed a serious fear of small places and wasn't at ease unless he had a direct and well-memorized escape plan at all times).

In the car traveling on a rainy day.

Of course, I don't have all of the answers.  Heck, I don't think I have any of them, really.  I will fully admit I'm winging it every day.  But I am trying to help him the best way(s) I know how.  Afterall, I am the one living this nightmare along side him.  I'm the one who sees the pain in my precious 8-year-old's eyes when he insists, er, demands we stay home or GO home (immediately!).  The point is, I know my kid and I can tell the difference between a fake "I want something" cry and and a real truly scared gut-wrenching sob.  And I know people don't agree.  But I'd like to think that as his mother I can see through the crap and tell the real deal.  I am probably wrong.  But if I'm being totally honest, I would rather err on the side of caution and not risk damaging his emotional well being simply because I didn't "believe him".

I walk a very thin line.  Every. Single. Day.  I weigh the signs, the reactions, the underlying messages and the unspoken emotions.  I try to always think about what the true reason for his outbursts of anger and jerkiness (which seem to be his favorite way to express his anxiety) might be.  Never to assume his behavior is what it outwardly appears to be (for example, he's not REALLY mad at his brother for eating the last banana when the sky just darkened up and he may just be worried about the change in weather).  His behaviors are usually out of left field, or don't make sense in the context of the situation.    I know I'm not a professional and I have come to the realization that he needs one.  I'm working on that.

I just wish other people could see my point of view and try to understand my position.  I'm his Mom.  I'm supposed to fix this.  I'm supposed to make him feel safe and ease his fears.  But with this ugly monster called Anxiety I simply can not seem to do that.  At least not alone.