Friday, March 20, 2015

Finding the Silver Lining Among Tragedy- How I Almost Lost my Boys' Father (the Man I Love) to Death...

It’s been months since I’ve created for this space. Much silence has lived here.
I (my family) experienced significant traumas. The kind where you need time and space. The kind that don’t easily brush off your shoulders.
There is still overwhelm, but I am ready to fill this space with all the good, the bad, the beautiful and the ugly. It’s why I created it after all- to share, to inspire, to live.
We all have moments. Some trivial, most passing while others linger. Mine lingered. It’s the moment when something implausible happens that leaves you stunned. Your world shatters like a mirror, and you’re left picking up the pieces. You’re left exposed.
It’s the kind of thing that causes perspective. It’s the kind of thing that makes you want to fight and won’t let you settle.
You see, life constantly (and sometimes instantly) shifts. In a second, everything can alter.
Last year, everything did- alter/shift- for me. I didn’t realize how much would change or that more was headed my way, but that’s another story for another post.
Here’s a rundown of last year’s notable events:
  • I gave birth to my second son in an unexpected home birth. We couldn't make it to the hospital, so my mother delivered. She’s not a midwife.
  • I grieved a friend, who lost a battle to cancer. I couldn’t make it to the funeral. One moment she was healthy. The next? Gone.
  • My youngest son and I were in a rear-end collision. I thank God that he is ok. My body still aches from time to time.
But the moment that changed it all? My sons’ father, Joseph, came minutes from losing his life. Ten to be exact.
    A Glimpse into the Past (2010): Ice skating with Joseph for the first time. He fell. :)

2014, the year of years. Emotionally, I’m spent. I feel too much all the time. Sometimes, I wish for numbness. It never comes.
On most days, I feel lost and hopeless. I dwell on things I can’t change and on things I wouldn’t want to change. Yet, there are no regrets. I realize that I am exactly where I am meant to be. I am meant to rediscover and question. I am meant to grow. I am meant to make an impact.
Before Joseph’s attack, I fell into my role well. A (single) mother. Young. Smart. Strong. Vulnerable. A little bit broken, but human. I felt love, but loneliness shrouded my heart.

I don't think there's ever been a moment since meeting Joseph where I didn't love him, but there comes a time where you decide to love yourself more. Love your children more. Without loving him less. Joseph's indecision in his life became too much for me to endure, so I embarked on a new path without him. I moved on. 

warm July morning changed it ALL. It set a new course.
Joseph messaged me at 7:13 am to wish me a “Good Morning,” and said he’d call me in a bit. I’m not supposed to smile, but I did. We aren’t supposed to be talking, but we do. I miss him.
“A bit” never came. I joked with him on his misuse of “a bit.” Nothing. I called. Nothing. Monkey Bear left a voice message. Nothing. Hours passed. I worried. I even messaged to tell him so.  At about noon, I had enough. My entire body was unnerved. I called his dad, and after a few pleasantries I blurted out “Is Joseph alive?” I think I unnerved him too. He told me to relax and sit. In that moment, I knew…
Something happened, and it was severe.
Someone attacked Joseph at his job site- a house where he was remodeling a bathroom. He doesn’t remember the details of the attack. He remembers arriving at the house, opening the doors and windows, and working for a couple hours before laying down to rest. His next memory is of waking up in a puddle of his own blood with no recollection of how it happened.
Whatever happened, he was left to die. Thankfully, he didn’t. Whoever attacked him, left Joseph’s phone behind. This detail saved his life because it enabled him to call for help. He didn’t realize the extent of his injuries, so he refused to go to the hospital. His mom convinced him otherwise. Once there, it took 6 people to restrain him to a hospital bed. This too, is just a story to him. He has no memory of it.
With a massive head injury, Joseph underwent an immediate craniotomy. I cried. I waited. I prayed. I struggled miles away. Should I visit him? Should I stay home? I questioned not because I didn’t want to be there, but because I wasn’t sure if I SHOULD be there.
I deliberated over the next couple days while Joseph recuperated in ICU. I finally chose to pack the boys and myself up.  There was no other option (at least for me). My entire being needed/wanted to be there for him, so I went.
Road to Recovery- Joseph settled into his room after a few days in ICU with a couple extra visitors.
Despite how broken and bruised Joseph looked, it brought me peace to see him. I never dreamed I’d see Joseph near death. It shook me. It unlocked emotions- feelings I willed myself to forget (or ones I simply hid).
By the time I got to the hospital, he got transferred out of ICU and into a regular room. I brought our youngest son with me. Little Seahorse was 7 months-old, and would be less impacted by the sight of Joseph’s injuries than our oldest son. We stayed the entire day before we headed back down. We couldn’t stay longer than a day because both our boys needed their mom to be home.
As weird as it sounds, I am grateful for Joseph’s near death experience. I’m in no way grateful for his injuries (he’s still in a lot of pain), but I am thankful for what this incident shifted for me, for us.
I came to realize how much I love Joseph. More than I knew. He is not always the best man, and has made mistakes. Let’s be real, so have I. Despite his faults (and some of my own), I still love him. I love him even if we chose to live separate lives.
For now, we heal (while we find peace in Pentatonix because their music feeds our souls.).
To the person who attacked him, I hold you no ill will. I don’t understand your actions. I don’t know if you randomly chose to hurt another human being, or if you knew Joseph. I don’t know why you left him to die. I do know that you did not rob him, and for this small detail I am appreciative too.
Have you gone through a traumatic experience? If so, how did it change your life? For the better? For the worse?
Please feel free to share your story here. It should be heard. In the meantime, please keep us in your prayers and send us love and light.

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