I haven't been posting much of late, mainly due to working a lot. The new job has been a big adjustment, with my hours all over the place. Over the weekend, I worked from 6pm-2am and then had to be back at work the next day at 12noon. Last week an anniversary of sorts passed, marking 7 years since the day Cam almost died. It was a surreal experience to be working in the same ER where we almost lost him those years ago.
Each year, I keep thinking that it will be easier. That I will be able to feel peace and happiness over the fact that his life was spared. Instead, the same as past years a dark mood settled over me and it did not pass until after Easter. Catharsis seemed a safe bet, so I wrote, took to my bath and bed, cried a little, and finally my spirits began to lift. Cam really is such a miracle, I can't imagine my life without him in it. I loved his father almost from the first moment we met, but my love for my son runs deeper and stronger than anything I have ever experienced in my life. It is fierce, protective, nurturing, unconditional, fulfilling. I feel like he is such a reflection of my personality, yet his is enhanced with the love and wisdom of a small child that has been through more than I could ever have thought possible. He is a survivor, one that often stands out alone in our family. He gives me hope, fills me with love, inspires, and challenges me each and every day. So much more than I ever could have hoped or imagined when I carried my first born within my womb. I think it is fear of the kind of loss I don't know that I could ever recover from that engulfs me. Yes, he lived, but that dark place where the what ifs live at moments consume my thoughts.
Our kids were almost unrecognizable all dressed up this past weekend. I am so used to seeing my girls all mussed and dirty from rolling around with their brothers, and playing in the yard. They really are both little tomboys, uber competitive and athletic. It is difficult at times to recognize the little girls that have replaced my sweet babies. I watch them and wonder what piece of me is inside of them? I see so much of their father and brothers at this age. The age when sex makes no difference in play, before boys and girls discover they are really different and that great divide begins. I wonder if the parts of me that float around somewhere inside of them is more likely to emerge as they grow older and leave childhood behind. Stretching their skin to emerge as the women they will one day become.
They are so much their own individuals, these two girls that share the same set of genes. While they look alike, they are each so unique and different. Allison is all heart, full of smiles and laughter while Rebecca is more solemn and quiet, with her tough exterior protecting her inner sweet, gentle, and quiet self. When they were babies, Craig and I would each take responsibility for one at night. I generally had Rebecca while he cared for Allison. We have often remarked on how much their personalities reflect ours in many ways. At times we wonder, would they be different if we had each cared for the other babies? Nature or nurture...were they born with these predispositions or did we shape them into the people they are becoming. I tend to think it is a little of both.
Friday, Craig and I slipped away to go see Columbinus at Stray Cat Theatre in Tempe. It was provocative, witty, masterful, eye opening, painful, touching. All of the things that in my eyes makes great theater. If you only go to see one play this year, it should be this one. Craig is planning to go back this weekend with Chris, our teenage son. I think it would be a compelling work of art that he will both understand and appreciate. Our son has complained over the years that theater is boring, which as managing artistic director of a theater is heart breaking to me. We have tried to find theater that will speak to him, as everyone has different viewpoints and experiences in life that color their perceptions. The last few plays I have directed, he enjoyed, Columbinus I think will really get to him, and that is the true heart of theater as an art form. It should touch you, make you feel, and think, and talk.
More busy days ahead, filled with ball games and ballet classes. Summer is coming our way with cool evenings following warm, sunny days that will not last long. Soon, it will be unbearably hot and our home will be filled with the constant whirr of the ac, wet foot prints tracked across our tile as we retreat to the cool respite our pool offers. I can hardly wait for our vacation, the opportunity to see the Midwest, Canada, to experience a different side of summer. It seems so far away, yet last Friday we came one step closer as we all applied for our passports. The anticipation is so lovely and there is so much planning left to do. So much to savor as the summer stretches out in hot waves before us.