Saturday, February 27, 2010

Glad So

You know, I think I've gotten pretty good at accepting that my precious son does not rank high on the national percentile chart on those intelligent quotient tests. What I am having a really hard time dealing with is that he just does not feel good many days. Op.Cit all over yourself; there's a posting about his surgeries. Yawn. Other people's surgeries. Yawn. But so often they provide such valuable information that helps us flesh out where a person is coming from. Taylor is not nearly in the same amount of pain that he was before or after the first spine surgery. But, still every day brings scheduled medications and lots and lots of being sort of fragile with our day.
Are you, my reader friend, what people call, "A trooper"? To me, that means that you roll with the punches without much complaining. (Gosh, don't we just love people like that--who aren't so high maintenance that the Blue Cheese has to be on the side and organic and low fat and oh, never-mind, just leave it off.) Nope, Taylor is a trooper. I can see in his eyes when he does not feel well. It absolutely breaks my heart. He has no language to describe his pain. I laugh at doctors who continue to recommend mindfulness meditation or mind-body Yoga for Taylor's healing. We lose Taylor the moment the guru beckons, "Imagine your cells floating..." Oops. Abstract thinking is not Taylor's strongest suit. Missing ingredient there, Dr. MD.
In the midst of a pain cycle, Taylor will look straight into my eyes and say, "Taylor smile." He knows how much it pleases me to see him smile and, by hook or by crook, he is trying to smile. (Kind of like smiling through labor or kidney stones?) In his valiant attempt to protect me and reassure me that things aren't so bad, he comforts me with phrases like, "Taylor better" or "Taylor alright." The pain in his eyes and on his body belie his brave little words. He would probably put most of us to shame with our whining and complaining and low-thresh-holds for things that just do not matter. Oh, so many lessons. So many.
What melts my heart is Taylor's response when I tell him that somebody else is not sick anymore or that they're better/well. The words, "I Glad So!" swirl out of his mouth and warm the air around us. Unlike so many of us, Taylor can get out of his own way and see you and be glad for you. I'll tell him that Deanie made it home safely or that my friend Terry, is happy, "I glad so," he says. And he is...glad so.
For what are we each glad so? What delights us so much that we allow ourselves to step out of our pain and out of our messes and just be so glad? Here's our homework assignment for tomorrow: Before daybreak tomorrow we each put down our monogrammed bag of wounds and worries---just one time...and let one other person on this planet know that we are GLAD SO that they are here as part of our lives. Extra credit: Double that. Brave words, those. Ready to "troop"? So glad.


  1. somehow, I think I've figured out how to post a comment . . . for you and me, I'm glad so.

    Hope Taylor feels better soon.

  2. I Glad So, too, Kitty!! Thank you for being in my life. (And, you are brilliant period. But you're even more brilliant because you figured out how to post a comment! I crown you Queen!)

  3. Don't undersell Kitty, Marianne...Kitty is "Queen With a SCEPTER" ... and don't you forget it!

  4. My monogrammed bag of worries. Oh thank you. Isn't that the every-lovin' truth! Last week, steaming in my furies over everybody dumping on me, I heard an interview with a woman from the Congo. She pulled me back to earth and thankfulness faster than a plummeting boulder.

    I glad so, too.

    Never underestimate perspective.

    Have you written yet about Taylor's ability to keep you in the present moment? (I haven't read it all yet, eh? ) I'll bet I've missed TONS!
    x x x x

  5. By the way, I love you Retarded Mother! I love you to pieces.....
    My life is so rich with you in it.


  6. Joe:
    I'm Queen REGENT . . . and don't YOU forget it!

  7. To all you Queens I WAS QUEEN REGENT IN SERVICE !!!!! I totally win. That means I earned a whole 'nother layer of guilt.

  8. ATTN: Regents, Scepters, Royalty-in-Service: I stand corrected and remain, as usual, your loyal and faithful servant-in-service-for-life. A special shout-out to Queen Kitty Regent for her unfailing willingness to rededicate her life on numerous occasions so that a whole generation of " '60's Baptists" could get home in time to see the BEATLES on the Ed Sullivan Show. That took real guts, even if we didn't realize it at the time! I bet Jesus wanted to see the Beatles, too!


Thank you so much for your comments. I know it's scary to put yourself out there. I really appreciate your being on this journey with me. You really are brave..