I have lost my direction. My son passed away Friday morning. My hands are too shaky to write more. For more information read my “About” page, or go to www.carepages.com
Cole M. Bent, 01/28/1991-05/17/2013
The day before surgery, March 13,2011
The following video link is for me.
I have had the song, “Time Warp” swirling around in my head all day long. You know the song, from the movie, “The Rocky Horror Picture Show.” So then of course I had to recap, via Google search, the actors who portrayed the fictional characters from the cult classic. But really, all of the info I just now shared is irrelevant to the subject at hand. Though my sharing it does give one insight into the nuttiness with which I constantly live…inside myself!
The real reason I have the song stuck in my head is that I feel as if I am living in a time warp. I honestly cannot keep track of time. It seems to fly by me without so much as leaving a note. My son moved into his own apartment February 1st, it is only the beginning of May, yet it feels like he moved out only a few days ago. Then at other times it seems longer.
My little brother married his fiance this past weekend. The wedding plans have been on all of the family radar for the past 9 months, and just like that, it’s over. We spent the entire weekend together down in San Diego, all of us crazies piled into the same hotel (minus my son), and yet the festivities flew by.
My mom came into town last Monday, visiting from Nicaragua where she now lives. I can’t believe all that we were able to “do” while she was here, and yet today I could hardly remember what those activities were…my husband helped pin a few down. She left us this afternoon, our time together is over (for now).
As I travel within this warped space in time, I find myself struggling to catch a breath. My cousin comes into town this coming weekend for a visit. My sister flies into town the weekend after. I will travel north a few days after that. My sister will then return in the beginning of June to cover for us as we head out of the country visiting two continents for a month on business. Yes, I did write one month. And upon our return from that excursion I will begin a new full time job. How is all of this even possible?, I find myself asking. And how do I ensure I do not miss one wink of the experiences within all of the travel opportunities/familial visits?
I don’t have the answer to my question…not today anyway, for I am still reeling over the fact the wedding has passed. Which is probably why The Time Warp is playing over and over again in my mind. Especially the line which repeats, “let’s do the time warp again.”
It’s just a jump to the left, and then a step to the right, put your hand’s on your hips…
P.s. What ever happened to Peter Hinwood aka Rocky Horror?!P.s.s I’ve opted to not post the link to the video of the song…purposefully! 😉
Today is the 3rd morning after I wrote my previous post . In that particular writing I had avowed to start my day off with prayer, before even getting out of bed. Well I am here to tell you that today is the third day I have awoke, jumped out of bed, flew to the kitchen for a drink of water, mozied over to the coffee pot to start my brew, only to remember: I FORGOT TO START MY DAY WITH PRAYER! Back to my bed I run… Run, written in the present tense because it is a present condition until a new habit is formed.
(I am tempted to interject the song, Three Days, by K.D. Lang, but I will spare you the musical interlude–just know that I am a walking jukebox and pretty much have a tune for every word, thought, and occasion)
How quickly I have adjusted to my habit of self focus, how difficult to redirect the interior of my design. I am thankful for this blog. It has, even in the slightest, kept me on a track I wish to follow. By simply being a reminder to my soul of the desire of my heart. Apparently, I need the help. I can tell you that going back to bed and forcing myself to converse with The Almighty G-d has truly been an effective method in strengthening, me. Now if you have been reading my musings for a bit of time, you will know that I tend to not divulge the intimate details of what transpires here at home. Those details belong to not just myself, but my husband, son, and daughter. Only after I feel the circumstance is “safe” will I allow myself the freedom to share beyond the ambiguous notion of the end result. But to help illuminate, for you the reader, the ‘why and how’ of the impact of starting the day off with prayer, I must let you have a closer look into how thin my psyche has been worn.
Example: If one prays for a miracle, and then receives a yes answer to said prayer, one would think that the requester of the miracle would recognize its presence. At least I would consider that to be true. Except just the opposite has happened to me.
My birthday came and went like the breeze, this past January. And on that particular day we received a call (actually my son did), from his doctor telling him that there was an area of abnormality which showed up on the routine MRI’s he had, had the previous day. I quickly accessed the report myself and sent it off, via email, to his neurosurgeon. Unfortunately after having spent the last two years inundated in this new world of brain tumors and 4th ventricular ependymoma, I am now educated enough in MRI reports to understand the circumstance of the abnormal reading…but only enough to be slightly dangerous to myself. At any rate, all fingers (so to speak) pointed to disease recurrence. And his next set of xrays, which were going to take a closer look at the area in question, were not for another week. So we Bents, along with the neurosurgeon at the VA, our private neurosurgeon who performed the original surgery, and Cole’s many other doctors were 99% positive the cancer had returned. Yet for some crazy reason (actually not crazy at all, but indicative of lives living by faith), we were holding onto the 1% chance…hoping for a miracle.
I am happy to report that the follow up tests showed there was no cancer, only an “artifact left over from the original surgery.” AN ARTIFACT!!! I can’t tell you how relieved we all are. The neurosurgeon’s email response to me was priceless, “Whew. OMG!” But you know what? I had been so exhausted from the accumulation of stress upon my soul that I didn’t even consider the miracle of the news. It was actually my brother, who was finally able to get a hold of me a few days later, who said, “well I think we’ve witnessed a miracle.” My response? …oh yeah, wow, I guess we have.
Now that, my friend’s, is sad. A girl living by faith, yet so bogged down that she can’t even see her Father in action! That was my wake-up call. My trumpet sound, my slap in the face. A change needed to come, and I am the only person who could(can) enact it. And that is why, three days ago I wrote the post, “Better Homes and Garbage” about beginning anew. Redecorating my inner walls. And why, for three mornings I have run back to my bed to honor the recognition of the doomed state from which I desire to leave.
Now can I get a witness?? 🙂
living in loss and gratitude 
The Noise