Home - To a New Normal

We have returned home from the boys' stay in Intense Feeding Therapy.  The transformation is amazing.  We've gone from two tube fed boys to two boys who eat during the day, with some tube feedings in the evening.  I'm living a life far closer to that of a stay-at-home mother than I have in years.  I see a life that is so easy in comparison to what I used to know.  I didn't think my life was difficult then, but now I look back in wonder.  How did I not collapse?  How could I keep going?  I acclimated; I adjusted.  I accepted it as my life, and did what needed to be done.

Now there is so much more room for Joy.  The Vintner and I have time in the evenings.  I'm not spent and exhausted.  I don't fall asleep in my chair at 9 pm, with my knitting in my hand.  I hold my husband's hand, and we spent the time together.  We laugh; we enjoy our marital life.

I am behind on running the household.  It will take some weeks to find a new routine and a new pattern.  Now my morning prayers are not so desperate for help getting through the day.  It's not clinging to Hope, but  experiencing a small break for Joy and Faith.  There is so much more time to feel the pleasure of Love.  While love kept us going, there wasn't much room for feeling the happiness that it brings.  It was a mature, fulfilling love. Now that we're feeding children, instead of tube-feeding them during daylight hours, there's room for smiles.  Not that one can't smile while a feeding pump is running, but the stress runs so high, that it's all too easy to forget to smile.  Plus, no one really enjoys running a feeding pump the same way they enjoy feeding a child by mouth.  It won't take long for this to feel like the normal life that it is.  From there, the windows will get washed.  The spring planting will occur.  Friends will gather around our table.  Spring blooms but around the corner.

The Last Few Days in Intense Feeding Therapy

In the past couple of years, I've only briefly touched on the disabilities of two of my children.  Their needs have been the reason why I've only posted briefly.  I've had very little time to myself.  When I have had time to write, I haven't felt the need to write anything for the public.  The increased attention we have received at the hands of nurses, doctors, therapists and other professionals has made me crave privacy, not explaining to anyone else our situation.  Quite the opposite, I'm exhausted from explaining all day, to so many people.

Now, we are entering a new phase.  My two boys, let's call them Balthazar and Melchior, have entered an intense feeding therapy program.  After a month, they will return home.  We will all be together as a family, without multiple professionals in my home all day, every day.  I'll still have help as a break on the weekends. This will give me time to attend to the things I wouldn't otherwise be able to do, like planting new vines.  It will feel more like the family life we once had, and less like living in a small hospital.

We will also be able to resume a more normal social life.  We'll be able to have help in the evenings, so that we can enjoy the company of friends.  My children go to bed early, so they won't need nurses.  In the past, I've either been awake all night caring for one of the boys, or too exhausted from our days to visit with anyone.  Now that a change is coming, I'm delighted to explore and discover.  I'm glad that I was the kind of person willing to live a quiet life for a time to meet their needs.  I'm glad that I'm the kind of person who will know when that season of life must end.  Now is the time to embrace the change and the growth of a New Spring.

These next few days are about saying goodbye to the hospital and the therapy program and saying goodbye to the last few days of winter.  It's time to say hello to the new buds of spring, and the new buds of our lives.

Dormant Vines

During the winter, our two vines are dormant. (Our vineyard is small, hence the name "cottage" vineyard, not vineyard cottage.)  That doesn't mean they are dead or useless.  The season of their lives is a quiet one, restful.  A similar situation has happened between the Vintner and I.  We realize that we are entering a new spring in our relationship.  We've had a dormant time between the two of us, because that was the season of our lives.  We needed to focus on our children and our home.  As we enter into a new phase, we are not changing from who we are.  We are changing from the child bearing years to a different type of production.  We are reaching out in a different way.  I can look to my vines and see that in just a few weeks, they will bud new leaves and begin a new yearly cycle.  In my own life, I had begun to think that winter was Right and True and Good, and how I would always live.  I thought that my social dormancy was some how better, and that a retired life was more virtuous.  This is not true.  "To Every thing there is a season, and a time to every purpose under heaven." Ecclesiastes 3.1.  There are other seasons, too.  Yearly seasons, despite their beauty, are not the only ones.  Our lives are so full, if we are not so busy emptying them.  In my own life, I see a budding much like my vines will soon, and it's wonderful!

A Social Time

Here at the cottage vineyard, there isn't much to do during our dark nights.  I have time to get out and spread the gospel.  Not proselytizing, but going forth into the world with fellowship.  Showing people the joy that fills one's heart when one loves Christ as I do.  In the past few years, I've sat at home, quiet, not making trouble, but rather making needlework or yarn crafts.  While there's nothing wrong in a lady staying at home occupying herself in this manner, that's not quiet what it means to be a Christian.  Our deacon ends the service with, "Let us go forth into the world, rejoicing in the power of the Spirit."  After listening to this every week, I think it finally sunk in.  I need to not spend all my free time at home.  Pastoral care cannot be a solitary pursuit.  We are not Christians to be isolated.  Monastery life is not what Jesus had in mind for most people.  Listening to others with radical compassion, patience and love is an amazing way to spread the Good News.  Letting others see just how much joy is available to them in Christ.  Not lighting the candle and then hiding it under a bushel.

A Wonderful Response

My friend sent a wonderful response in a short note.  Since then, we've chatted briefly over the last week.  I'm delighted that my invitation has been received so warmly.  After so many years of distance for no good reason, I'm re-establishing a friendship that should never have faltered.

We have so few opportunities to really connect in our busy, modern world.  Even when we do, we neglect our true friendships too readily, too easily.  We pass a moment with so many people, but we don't delve below the surface.  We have snatches at surface level interactions.  Our time is spent before screens, in a mild state of hypnosis, trying to occupy all our time.  Without meaning to loose our grasp, we let go of the relationships that give our lives the most meaning.

As for me, I decide to change.  I'm listening.  I'm conversing.  I'm making an impact, an impression.  I'm adding real meaning to the connections with others that I have.  Won't you join me with your own connections and interactions?

Waiting on a Friend

I've written an old friend, in hopes of re-establishing a friendship.  I've realized lately how valuable old friends are.  A friend of my mother's has just lost a dear friend from childhood.  Reading her words on the value of these friendships over decades has opened my eyes on what I need to do.  While I have a handful of friends of that long duration, I've not focused on them much in the last two years.  Granted, I've been caring for three young children, two with permanent serious disabilities.  All the more reason for me to understand what really matters and what doesn't.  Keeping up with latest clothing fashions? I haven't missed much in the last two years.  Not keeping up with old friends?  I've shortchanged myself.

I hope to hear from my friend at all.  I hope to hear a positive response instead of a rejection, and a preference to maintain the distance.  I am prepared for both options.  Ideally, I'd love to have a companion for hiking, or swimming laps at the natatorium or just coffee.  While my solitary respite was necessary at first, it has now become merely lonely.  A friend is the perfect remedy.

After a long absence due to caring for our youngest child, I realize how much I miss writing.  It has been a difficult time.  Waiting for a child to heal his heart is a bit like women who waited for their husbands to return from campaign.  There's no time for ordinary pursuits when one must take upon oneself herculean tasks.  Survival and hope that the loved one survives too is paramount.

On a lighter note, my vines are thriving.  I hope to take a photo and upload it soon.  I harvested my first grapes this fall.  I'll be expanding my vineyard next spring.  Hope is a wonderful fertilizer.