The last few days have been heavenly, as I have not had to scurry around with a thousand things to do and no time to do them. I actually did some sewing … Beth is modeling a fleece top I completed. The M & M fabric was a remnant from a “sleeping bag” robe I made for Amy. I used to call Amy “Peanut” when I was still struggling to connect with her. Eventually the nickname more or less faded away …

Hard to believe I am excited about waiting for a repairman, but I am. I haven’t had a working washing machine in over two weeks. Seems two brilliant “young ladies” decided taking about 50 toothpicks from a restaurant and stuffing them in their pockets was a wise idea; although I am usually diligent about checking pockets, somehow I missed these. I fished a bunch out of the washer tub; another dozen found their way into the filter, and apparently, some more found their way into the spin motor. With all the company and all the extra towels and bed linens, not to mention regular laundry … well, suffice it to say I have not been a happy camper about this. I hope that after tonight I will be back in business.

Kyle and Marie are somewhat settled into their new town home, and Kyle is acclimating to his new job. He’s on a brief training business trip, and last night I had the opportunity to hang out with his lovely wife. Her dad is (sort of) in the home stretch of cancer treatment, and it has been a long, hard past 6 months. Compound that significant stress with completing college, graduating, moving, dealing with the holidays (noticeably impacted by having an ill parent) and other more “normal” life stressors, and lovely Marie is struggling emotionally. How could she NOT be? She has some indicators of PTSD! Just walking into the hospital to visit her dad triggers physical body responses. Moving away from her family at this time is particularly difficult. My wonderful, but male, son is struggling to understand the emotional fallout his bride is experiencing.

As we were talking about this last night, I instantly remembered the physical responses I experienced whenever I had to deal with the fallout of my emotionally disturbed kids. A phone call from school; a call from social services; just having the child walk through the doors after school and having to gear up for all the stress, games and ugliness. There was no earthly way I could diminish or discontinue those physical responses merely by wishing it to happen. You can’t just “psych yourself out of” physical and emotional stress reactions.

I SO don’t miss living in that state day in and day out. I know many of you still are. I know how many of you wake up every day and feel your stomach twist into knots; I know how many of you clutch every time the phone rings; I know how many of you dread dealing with anyone in the “outside world” because they don’t have a clue about your life and you don’t have one shred of energy left to explain it to them. I completely understand Marie when she says she just wants to stay home, curl up with a book and escape her thoughts … She can’t just “get on with her life” when there is such a major traumatic event occurring in that very same life.

I hope I can help Kyle understand this better. He was a child when I was in the throes of dealing with this in my life. He is also the less-emotionally tuned in version of our species … a man. Sorry if I insult you guys … but all indicators point to women as being the more emotionally driven gender.

Another aspect of Marie’s situation became apparent to me in our conversation last night. It is very difficult for most people to tolerate being in a situation where they have no control over the outcome, and they can’t make the pain go away. Sitting with an ill parent and not being able to fix things or say some magic words. Seeing pain and fear in the face of someone you love and being powerless to erase those emotions. How many times have we as adoptive parents found ourselves quietly and stoically supporting our children as they plow through their pain? What a crummy skill to have to learn.

This has been a killer journey for me … but I guess I have learned a great deal about life that I wouldn’t have learned otherwise.

Photo Credit: Beth modeling her new shirt