-->Sometimes, you've just got to write it down. When we are followed by the joyful, the precious and the sorrowful shadows of our past, we must remember it is the sun shining on our face that casts the shadow back. Therese Steinhoff shares her story of witnessing the suffering of loved ones. -BTH
I don’t know how to explain it but the happy memories of my
childhood are bringing me to tears of sadness this week. I haven’t cried myself
to sleep in a long time, but I did last night. I actually woke my husband up and asked him to hold me as
the tears and words flowed. Between sobs I said “I feel such a heaviness
pressing on my heart right now.” A happy picture from my childhood of a 12 year
old version of me dancing with a sweet kid I used to baby-sit was the catalyst
for the tears and the words.
I was so fortunate to grow up in a small town with wonderful
adults to look up to and their beautiful kids to look after. My parents really
knew how to pick good friends.
When you grow up in a town far away from your extended
family, your friends become your extended family. When my parents first moved
to our town they didn’t really know anybody. My mom made a friend named Cindy,
who she worked with. Cindy was from Beaufort, South Carolina and had a thick
southern accent to prove it. Within years they were good friends and my mom and
dad drove down to South Carolina to watch her marry Gary.
By the time I
came around they were great friends. I am pretty sure one of my first words was
“CindyandGary.” They were like an aunt and uncle to me. They didn’t have any
kids of their own, so they doted on me. They ended up moving on to Lancaster,
Pennsylvania where they would have three kids and send us Christmas pictures
set on the swing on their front porch for the next 30 years.
We visited them a few times and they visited us almost every
Thanksgiving or Christmas when they went to see Gary’s family. They always
brought laughter and joy with them on their visits.
A few weeks ago I learned that Cindy was dying. Her first
grandchild is due in May. Last night her daughter wrote on her Caring Bridge
site that Cindy was losing her battle with cancer. She was suffering. She was
buoyed by her strong faith accepting that God had a plan for her. Her children
and husband are following suit.
**************
Tom and Lori were the couple across the street that I
babysat for. I loved their two children like they were my own cousins. Lori
became a mentor to me and was the reason why I majored in Journalism . She
freelanced from home when you had to fax your stories to news institutions. Her
passion for her job and her family appealed to me. She was a great mother who
had found a good balance between a career and motherhood during a time when
women were forced to choose one or the other. This was what I craved for my own
life. I wanted to write, but I also wanted to be home with my kids.
Lori had
married her high school sweetheart Tom and they always came back from their
date nights refreshed and laughing. Lori once told me that it was nice that she
and Tom had known each other for so long, because they could talk about people
from their past with each other. They had grown up together.
A couple of years ago Tom was diagnosed with ALS (Lou
Gehrig’s Disease). They told them that it was a slow moving form of the disease
which made us all take a deep breath, but soon Tom exhibited signs of dementia
in which he would act out erratically. He would embarrass Lori in a grocery
store parking lot, and then would tell her she was the most beautiful girl in
the universe. Last week
Lori told me that Tom now has home health care full time and they just received
his lifeline clicker in the mail. You know the one you click when you have
fallen and can’t get up? Tom is in his late fifties.
**************
If my parents close friends were like aunts and uncles to
me, their children were like cousins to me. I have known Claire before I can
remember. She and her sister Erin were so musical and cool. They acted in many
plays and were always singing. Erin was two years older than me, and Claire was
a year younger than me.
My dad and their mom became ill at the same time. They died
within months of each other.
Claire ended up going to Stanford Law, met her husband,
settled in San Francisco and then became pregnant. Her pregnancy was rocky from
the start. She delivered Nora at 25 weeks and Nora weighed less than two
pounds. We all held are breaths for months as Nora tried to breathe on her own.
She never has breathed on her own and she is now three years old. A few weeks
ago I learned that Nora is on the list for a full lung transplant. She is a
happy, spunky, little girl who runs around trailing her oxygen tube behind her.
She has her mom’s smile and curly hair. She has her grandmother’s strength. She
is like any normal three year old—she just can’t breathe.
**************
Life is a lot like the lake I grew up on. Some days you can
just float on water that is smooth as glass. And then a storm comes and the
lake gets choppy and tosses you around. Sometimes you feel as though the
heaviness of the dark water is pulling you under. Then the sun comes out and
you are floating on the calm water again. Right now I feel like this turbulent
time in our friends’ lives are pulling me under. The happy memories are the
only thing keeping me above water. I remember hearing all of their diagnosis’s
and thinking “well they are OK for now” and that kept me floating on the calm
water. These past few weeks the waters have turned dark and choppy. I feel the
heaviness of what’s next for them and their families weighing me down. I feel
guilty for being so far out from shore. I want to swim up to land and help them
out.
I know that the sun will come out and that the water will be
calm again. I am grateful that my own family is safe on land. My heart is
physically aching. Right now I wish I could go back in time and be that 12 year
old girl who is watching the calm water from the dock and laughing. The girl
who hasn’t even seen the dark choppy water of life. The girl who has never had
to swim against the waves. But if she never had to struggle she wouldn’t have
gotten strong. Right now the woman she has become must gather that strength to
swim against the current swelling around her today. She knows she will be back
on shore soon. Her family is waiting for her.
