Memories of Green

This last week we have been glued to a new blog about one of our little friends, Jace who just found out that he has leukemia. Reading about their new "adventures" has brought our memories full circle to over twenty-one years ago. We too had started our own "life adventure" and in a blink of an eye, our whole world changed. We were at the old Primary Children's hospital. Old was the operative word there. There was not enough space for everything that needed to exist in a medical facility so most of the hallways were lined with equipment. The walls were painted in the most nauseating color of green and there was no rhyme or reason with how or where most children were located.

We were assigned the green team. This was a team of doctors, nurse practitioners, and nurses who took care of Mikael. We were forced to share a very small room, 10' x 15' with another very sad family who had a very sick baby too. The MRI wasn't even at PCMC, but located at LDS hospital several blocks away. It was a new proceedure and the rad tech joked that he knew exactly what was wrong with our baby. He laughed as he announced that Mikael had a crack in his brain. I remember panic...how...why...and then the tech realized that neither Tom or I got the joke, either because we were emotionally spent or because we were exhausted from over thirty hours of no sleep or both. The cracks that he had referred to were actually the natural sutures in his skull. Not so funny. The doctors came in later and told us that Mike had had a stroke.


I remember with amazing clarity the sensation that the earth had been jerked from beneath my feet as they explained that our boy would never be what we had anticipated. I had signed up for ITALY and got sent to HOLLAND. (It's a poem) And you know since that moment, life has really never been what I had imagined for any of us. The milestones in our child's life came at different intervals and definitely played out so much differently than they did for other children. Hospital visits and medical bills were common and everyday for our family.

Several years ago I heard Alyssa and her friends talking about fish tanks (I'm not sure why but the subject was being discussed) Alyssa told her friends that her very favorite fish tanks were the salt water tanks at PCMC in the surgery waiting areas. Her friends laughed and joked "yah mine too...so when were you there?" She said, " I have spend a lot of time waiting in that room, staring at the beautiful fish and the bubbles, wondering and praying for my brother on the other side."

I do believe that we "signed up" for the tasks and trials that we experience (those that are not part of the consequences of our power to choose) here on earth. I know that Mike did and I am pretty sure that we as a family did. I am not so certain that we knew what we were getting into. Maybe it didn't look this hard or we thought we would handle it better from the other side. Somewhere along the line, I think we forgot that we would forget that this is suppose to be an opportunity to grow. I know that I am quick to forget and slow to remember why I am here. I am here to be the mother and the keeper of the memories...of green.

I am sad for our friends, the Leatham's. I am sad that their lives have and will continue to be different than they envisioned. I hope that somewhere along the line, I can offer them words of hope and encouragement that no matter what happens, the Lord has blessed and will continue to bless them in small and simple ways. I have seen His efforts in all aspects of this journey.

It is funny (ok not so funny) how being a parent is much like a punishment for all those trials that we doled out to our parents. I remember sitting at the counter in the kitchen in my home in Southern Idaho sobbing uncontrollably that my parents couldn't possibly understand and that they were wrong. Of course, several years later in my repentent mode, I recognized that they not only understood but they were right. The funny part isn't how we replay the situation on the other side, it is that it is tremendously more painful on the parent side. I am stating this because I have been on both sides and lying the cards down next to each other, this is harder all the way around.

This is why I think it is:

First - I love my children more than life itself. I will never leave my children, but they will leave me. It is part of the plan. So no matter what hurtful things they say or do, I will always love them. I remember thinking at the time that I had my first son, I will never again just be me. Forever...I will be his mother.

Second - I have been there before. I lived the "drama" of being a teenager and I would never do it again, even if I was paid. I convinced myself that my parents were unfair, unloving, hateful and unchristian. There were a lot of things that I thought my parents were or weren't. They didn't know. Truth is that now that I am a parent, I am convinced that I know even less. As much as I pray for it, my children's instruction booklet has not been FedEx'd to me.

Third - What I did learn as a teenager was extremely painful as a result of my refusal to listen. The result were consequences that I was unable to see because I was proud. As an adult, I have learned that pride is the destruction of all good. It makes us believe that we are invincible, infalible and indestructible. My friend said this about her daughter that has been in the arena of bad decisions, "She wants to eat her cake and have her cake." Choices seem so easy when we interpret that the decisions we are making are based on solid information. When we are sixteen nothing is solid. The ground gets jerked out from underneath us moment by moment. Parents have been there, done that. And no matter what a teenager has been told, we remember what it is like to be there. We remember the pain of our decisions. They haunt us in our children's choices. We can run but never hide, we can cry in sorrow for repentence but we still know because we can still remember how it could have been.

Fourth - Despite all the love in the world, I will always just be the mother. What could I possibly know with all my flaws? Trust me there are many when it comes to me. There are many things I wish as a person I did or didn't do, but as a parent the list is surmount. I wish, no I pray daily that my children will look back on their childhoods and understand that I did the best job with the information that I had at that moment. But more importantly, I have come to the realization that the process of parenting requires humility. My willingness to realize that I don't know it all, but what I do know (from the joys and sorrow of experience) will help my children if they are willing to lay down the gauntlet so to speak and allow me the privilege to lead them through the briers, around the land minds, below the low hanging branches and above the mud of life.

Despite all of that, they have the ability to make choices. Mistakes are part of life. I remember telling my daughter that my job was to place as many stones in the river so that they could cross with less difficulty. I can only pray that they will "choose" to jump to the next one.