Tuesday morning at 5:30am, Joel and I will be at our 4th hospital in 2 years. The first 3 were not welcomed or planned. This one may not be welcomed, but it IS planned. For several years, Joel has been in knee pain - the longer the time, the more the pain. As usual, his stubborn ways said it was only arthritis. Until..... October and Cassidy convinced him it was more. As Cassidy was packing to return to Omaha, Joel asked her to stay and go to orthopedic appointments with him. Two doctors, X-rays and more CT scans later, he's scheduled for a total left knee replacement. We had no idea it could be done before the end of the year (vacation, sick leave, holiday plans). Until we heard.... Tuesday, December 27 was the day.
For 2 weeks, I have played with the idea of spending Christmas Day in Omaha with Cassidy. She made it through Thanksgiving without Jeremy, thanks to great friends (Sarah and Ant Mattera) who included her in his squadron dinner for the single guys. She made it through Christmas Eve, learning how to make Polish pirogies, and had plans to return today, spending most of the day with that precious family. Until.... she didn't.
I wanted to be here for our church's Christmas Eve service, but that was negotiable. I HAVE to be here Monday night, to leave the house about 4:30 am for the hospital Tuesday morning. I could have flown up there last night, or today, or tonight. But I didn't. I thought it was risky - "What if"... the flights were full, or were canceled or weather turned bad and everything was grounded? Valid thoughts. I can accept those. I decided I would stay here - she was fine. Until.... she wasn't.
The FaceTime alert rings, and you answer it. It's her. And in .00001 seconds, I knew it - she was sick. Physical sick. Heart Sick. Ready to be over this separation sick. No words are needed. The child RARELY ever cries. Until.... she has tears. And my heart breaks.
Being in the middle of anything is not something I usually look forward to: the middle of a good dream when you wake up, the middle of a good book and you have to leave, the middle of a good time with good friends and you have to catch a plane. Having no siblings, I imagine being the middle child isn't the most fun, but being the mom in the middle has to be the worst.
Everyone knows: There really isn't any decision to make. She's a grown woman. She'll be fine. Joel needs you to be here. This is a big surgery. The decision is clear - right? Then why is my heart in such turmoil? Because just like I couldn't fix it when she broke a bone, or when she had her heart broken, I can't fix the thousands of miles she is apart from Jeremy.
And I wonder why this bothers me so much. Then I realize why: Because I want to talk to my mom about it. SHE is the only one who would understand. SHE was in the middle at times too. One of the hardest was when I called from North Dakota, telling her I was leaving a marriage and coming to Texas. She wanted me to let my dad fly up and help drive me (and my stuff) back. I told her if I was big enough to make this kind of decision, I should be big enough to make it happen. And I did. And I know it hurt her tremendously. And that's where I am now. I want to ask her how it felt all those years ago. I want to hug her and tell her I'm sorry for not understanding. I want to help rescue my child, like my mom wanted to rescue me. I want to be there. But I know I can't. So... Until..... then. Whenever "then" happens. I'll be here. Wondering. Waiting. Wishing I could do more. And knowing I can't. But I believe in the Great Physician - who can, will and DOES heal all hurts. Until we see Him, and see all those parents (and children, and loved ones) who no longer have these earthly hurts, we will be here, wishing for them, and for heaven where there are no more tears.
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