Going Back

Giles has been out of school for 2 weeks. He is horribly behind. In fact so far behind that he might never catch up. He is fighting going back. Wednesday we tried to get him to go back but he got so anxious he was actually sick to his stomach. Thursday, Harlen got him in the car and started towards the school but by the time they got there Giles was inconsolable. He went in only to leave. Friday we didn't even try. He went with Harlen to deliver bulls to Washington. He wants to run away. I feel for him. The sad part of this is Cyrus went through this after the accident. We left him crying and made him go. It was the worst thing I ever did to Cyrus. I should have took him back home, loved him and had patience with him, because it really scarred him. Maya after her SCFE operation I threw her back into school when she was already struggling. Life never got better for her in Adrian again. Giles is sitting in the recliner watching "Psyche" and crying, telling me how hard it is. Another fork in the road. Which is the right way? My heart wants to keep him home, protect him, but my mind knows he needs to go back and face his fears, his anxiety. I am not one to show him an example of facing your fears. I wish I could take it away from him. I love him so much. He is still my baby boy.

Scars

I have a scar from the accident. It isn't very big and the Dr.'s that sewed me up did a very good job of hiding it. They did a good job of hiding it from everyone but me. I see it every time I look in the mirror. I see it every time I put my contacts in, comb my hair, brush my teeth, put on my makeup (especially my mascara). I feel it every time I get my eyebrows waxed or I dare pluck them myself. It isn't that painful, but I feel it. Physically that scar will always be with me. The worst part of it is though emotionally it is a sickening reminder of what happened, what happened to my life, my family, my marriage, my happiness. It is just there, camouflaged by my eyebrows, but there is no way I can camouflage the feelings it brings on. I can't bury that I am responsible for the death of my son. I can't shroud the fact that all of my kids struggle with our new existence. Scars are funny like that.

On the other hand it is my proof that I have made it this far. I am tired and life seems overwhelming right now. We had our sale on Tuesday. It went well. 2nd highest sale ever, but it is hard to be happy anymore. I am tired of trying so hard just to survive.

Hasten in the Arbitration

Today at an early hour we headed off to yet another meeting with the lawyers. This time with Giles. Each of my kids have been affected by the accident and subsequent death of their brother in their own unique way. The boys are stuffers. They stuff their feelings. Then the hurt comes out in anger, and depression. They do not like being confronted with the memories. Giles has tucked his trauma away. He doesn't even remember where he was sitting in the suburban when it happened. You would think that would be a good thing, but it isn't. Because these memories come out in ugly ways. Giles has outbursts of anger that last days. He can't calm down. He hates that he is brother that is left out of the mix. He shows sadness more than any of his other brothers. A song might remind him of what he misses. Today he had to show 2 lawyers and an arbitrator what he feels. He was Giles. I was proud of him. He held up well. Why is this still happening 7+ years after the fact.

Giles before the accident.

Why don't you understand me?

I spent 2 days last week at 2 hospitals with 2 of my boys. True is 17 and had a tonsillectomy on Monday. Harlen had to stay the night with him because at 7am the next morning Giles had to have emergency surgery in Boise, St. Luke's on both his hips. He was also diagnosed with SCFE Slipped Capitol Femoral Epiphysis, which Maya had 3 years ago. He had long screws inserted into both femur bones.
I have been a basketcase. I hate hospitals. I hate my kids being under the knife, under anesthesia. I hate the reminders of 7+ years ago. I hate the smell. I hate the carpet. I hate the plates and utensils. I hate the beds. I hate watching them in pain.I hate explaining why someone in our family died before the age of 25. I hate being nice when the anxiety is eating me up inside. I hate when people who should understand my plight are completely oblivious. This isn't anything like before. At least they are doing well. No one died you should be grateful. YES grateful. Do I look like I am not happy everything went well? Well I don't mean to. I mean to look relieved, but I am full of sadness, and anger, and panic, and panic, and anxiety, and did I mention panic.

Sure you look at me like I am crazy, that I can't handle a simple surgery. I see it. You tell me boy you are handling this great, but you don't know that I want to run, I want to drink, I want to get rid of this feeling of dread that surrounds me. "Trust in God" Yes because your God has done me well so far.

Please find it in your hearts to help this family

These are my friends Tom & Jen Findling. I have talked about them before. They lost their wonderful son in a horrible house fire. They were both burned terribly and spent months in Utah's burn clinic. Money was earned for them through someone they thought they could trust, but the person ended up defrauding them out of the funds. They are in dire need of money. They have moved out of our community because of the trauma. They lost their phones today because of non-payment and are worried the power is next. Please will you do whatever you can. Even a small amount would help. I love these two. They are salt of the Earth and don't deserve this hardship piled on to an already sad trial.
Tom & Jennifer Findling GoFundMe