I think that most of live in the "now." The "now" that is not only immediate, but also indefinite. I want things in the now to be good; feeling good in body and mind for me and my family, and I not only expect it, but assume without fail that this good will last forever. And then the same happens with the bad. When I or someone in the family is doing bad, it seems like it will now be the new norm that will last forever. How can I live with this stomach bug, I wail! It's impossible! I'm impatient because I believe the 'now" state of being is the one that will continue on. The irony is that I only pay attention to the now verses the all-the-time only when things are "bad."
The reason for this thought process today, is that I am still (and probably forever, har har) trying to come to gripes with the reality of Leo's seizures. I do admit, however, that the seizures are just one of many categories of "bad" that parents (or really anyone with a beating heart and brain) has to deal with. Each of us has a level of bad that makes the forever look very grim indeed.
My "baddest bad" is, without fail, seizures and Leo's medical issues. This past Friday little man had a seizure episode that though mild (in the scheme of things) and dealt with at home, still dropped the "bad" curtain over what was previously a very happy play. Seriously guys, Leo is walking! It's no joke, and it's totally freakin' amazing, but we are already assuming this "good" is now the new and normal "meh" which will last forever. Are we humans stupid or what?? It's like we are not only walking down the train-tracks with our eyes on the iphone, txting, we are also doing it backwards and with the earbuds in. Train? Meet Dumb Arse, Dumb Arse, say goodbye, say goodbye...
I couldn't say I'm any exception, because I'm train-wrecked every single time. And I realize that in the instant I see Leo have a seizure, the bad curtain drops, but not until I'm treated to a flashing silent movie of all the things that will get wrecked, taken away, or effected by it. And I feel like I have to say goodbye, and that the "now" will be spent in the ER hooked up to a high dose of fear and trembling. The reality of that "now" feels like a stone wall; high and hopeless. This is drama, Russian style!
Leo is doing ok, but it's only now, Monday, that he seems to have gotten his strength back. I think he is cutting another set of molars (gee do we really need that many teeth? I'd say half the number would suffice..) and working on a cold so he's got all kinds of pressures trying to take precedence in his head, so the seizure isn't all that surprising, in hindsight. Just as long as the seizure stays in singular form that is...
I've blogged about all this before, in many shapes and forms, in the hopes that eventually the words that I type with my fingers will engrave themselves on to the Dumb Arse grey matter in my head. The only way to live with the "now" is to not make it forever. Each "now" is just that. A moment in time: take it, breathe it, live it, pray it, and let it go. You can't own the good, and thank God, you can't own the bad either. It's all a gift that you live through and sometimes, die through, and that we can never fully understand the divine mystery that is the "forever."
If I could pick my forever moment though, it would be, without a doubt, my beloved family and friends, my children- Leo, running through the sunny fields of eternity with wings on our feet, and wonder in our hearts. And that this moment, though eternal would never ever become the "meh" of the "now."