Three of my favorite women recently gave birth to their firstborn sons. I have the birth announcements up in my office. They take me back to the moonlight nursings, the arboretum walks, the miraculous sling, and all that open-ended time devoted only to getting to know this creature, this baby of your own. Even the faces, the tiny ribbon-like nostrils (my Mom's phrase), the odd shock of hair-- will it go this way, part that way, spike up like this forever? The little sleeping-infant face, the moving cumulonimbus clouds that pass across so briefly and so swiftly. Thinking of the time I passed this way with Manny. Hours and hours in that rocking chair on St. Rose St.
That stands in contrast to the days we've been having. And while I think they are brought on by the anti-seizure meds, his behaviors have seemed to bring on a completely different Manny. We've had hitting, throwing things at us, Geoff got a right-hook in the car. The doctors seem to think we need to give this more time. Five weeks on Depakote. 7 Days on Zarontin. I feel chemically-altered and it's not even me that's taking them. I vacillate between compassion for all of his neuro-biology and just being so mad and frustrated. It's like-- all pissed off and no place to direct it.
I try not to be a sewer-grate for advice, just taking in what's said but one of the girl's teachers had a father who was on anti-seizure meds and told me today, "You just have to let go of what you expect him to be. And help him to be who he is."
By this advice, which makes me cry, I need to let go of my oddly clear vision of Manny winning a Cross-Country Scholarship to Swarthmore and then going on to study music and then writes a dissertation on tribal music as it relates to worship in the Third World. I need to ease my grip on my own fixations and unrealized fantasies of my own and just let this child be who he is right now.
I need to look at this with a redemptive lens: What's the best good for this child? Is he tired? Could this be solved by my walking away? Could this be solved by a brisk walk outside? Should I just hold him right now? What adds sanity and compassion? Does it matter if we're late? Does it matter if this gets done? Trying to draw from a deep account of love and patience.
Well, I hope Manny doesn't run cross country at Swarthmore. He can do much better than that! And your well of love and patience is deep and you are smart enough to keep replenishing it by taking care of yourself and letting God's grace fill you. Our visit at Thanksgiving will be short but hopefully sweet. I plan on spending the day holding Dom as much as possible. I hope you and I can find time to talk and catch up.
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