I’m sure most of us, above the age of 13, have been advised “don’t take life for granted” or “life is short, don’t take the people you love for granted.” Well if anybody understands the brevity of life, it is I (and those connected to me). However, in order to live, I am finding out that the only way to carry on is to, in fact, take those we love for granted. We have to. We have to consider that we will speak again, see each other again, and fulfill our future plans together. It is imperative for our mental health that we consider the next day will come!
Now mind you, as each next day comes (at rapid speed) I am still trying to grapple with the yesterday gone by. And while in my grappling state, momentary living–living in the moment rather, gets to be a tough concept to abide by. Especially as my life keeps traveling at a rate too fast for me to handle. Check this out…
Brian and I spend the day with our son, Cole. May 16, 2013
A telephone call from a sheriff and Cole’s best friend tells us our son is gone. May 17, 2013
We bury our son at Miramar National Cemetery, San Diego. Dates at this point are escaping my memory
We leave for a pre-planned (business/pleasure) trip to Europe.
We return from Europe and turn around and fly to Japan (business/with pleasure attached). July 1-7
Home from Japan with severe jet-lag, the following Monday (July 15), I begin a new job an hour from my home.
Here I sit, on my couch, the Saturday after navigating my first week of work.
I have mounds of mail to attend to. I am late paying my visa bill. My toilet is sporting a new “brown color ring” on the inside of the bowl. My kitchen counter looks like a cross between OfficeMax and the grocery store. I have the census bureau sending me threatening notifications about the fact I am “obligated by law” to fill out the form. My laundry is still under the impression that “konichiwa” is the proper greeting of the day. I have phone calls I haven’t made and follow up I haven’t done in connection to the death of my son. We have been offered a historical home to live in, in San Diego (next door to my new job), for free–minus utilities. And while the offer is extremely generous and financially appealing, the idea of it terrifies me. AND–this is a big “and”– I have family and friends who are in sorrow with us and who have been left in the dust of our whirlwind as well.
So when I actually try to get my head around my life, my yesterday, my today, and my tomorrow–I find myself needing, absolutely requiring, that my loved ones, my circumstances, my world, remain intact. I mean it is all happening too fast for me… I have to “take for granted” that they will be here tomorrow, if I am to make it through my today.
Now I must go de-clutter the kitchen counter, put the roast in the crock-pot, cut the fruit so it doesn’t rot, sort the beans and put them to boil, make breakfast for the rousing crew, and fill out the damn census form before John-Law comes a knocking at my door.
Any thoughts from the peanut gallery (a term I use to pay homage to my children–they are my peanuts–and I can still hear Cole’s voice)?
My last post was written in an attempt to convey the fact that I feel as if I am running on borrowed time. Not the type of “borrowed time” that means short on life, but more the type of situation where there are so many things happening, nay converging, that when I get a moment I feel as if it’s borrowed from a future still pending. In my own estimation, I fell short of success in conveying that concept…not only did I not take the proper initiative to dissect where I was coming from, but the thought itself is an abstract and abstracts are hard for me to process. Hence the lazy output of my previous writing. To be plain, my last post is downright boring. A cop out at best. I thank you for reading through it, and I especially thank those of you who, with loving hearts, were able to decipher through my blasé code and find the real Rivka in the mix. You are my kindred spirits!
So I have some catching up to do…
First, the excitement of the day: My husband, my daughter, and I are heading to France in June. Brian (hubby) has been asked to play music at a festival in Biarritz, FR called, “Wheels and Waves.” He is also being recruited to that country to have an art show at a gallery in the same town, galerie 13 avril de biarritz. When he was asked to participate he said, “yes, but my wife must come along too.” So Brian and I are having an all expenses paid trip to France, and we decided we needed our daughter to be party to the endeavor as she is fluent in the language and we are not. Well simultaneous to the french connection came an offer from Japan. Again, my beloved said, “I will go but not without my wife.” So we return from France only to turn around and three days later take off for Japan. Only this time, Esther will not be with us as she only knows how to eat Japanese, not speak it!
Which brings me to the second item of ‘new and exciting’ in the Bent (but not broken) world of Rivka B. Upon our return from Japan, two days after our return to be exact, I will be starting a new job. A full time job. And though I am not quite yet at liberty to discuss the details of the position, or the employer, I am very much looking forward to this new opportunity, challenge, endeavor, direction. I assure you, more to come on this subject later…like mid-summer, later!
Third, but not last, as result of many, many (would it be too redundant to include about a thousand more “many’s?”), circumstances and prayers (“prayers” should be in caps for emphasis!), our Bent family is graduating from the ministry we were called to thirteen years ago. Yep, 13 years ago my husband and I knew without a doubt we were called to start an outreach ministry called, the Hotrod Church for Sinners (hotrodchurch.com). It has been, what I like to call, a catalyst ministry–a first step, if you will, toward a life of faith (we have also been blessed with several people who utilize it for their additional steps of faith as well). We have met in the same pizza/bar restaurant since its inception–free of charge. And have reached out to the people in society who feel, for whatever reason, unrecognized by the traditional church. The ministry has become so much more than that. It has been an extension of our family. It is funny, I was briefly looking through the photos taken at the hospital while my son was in ICU (from the brain tumor surgery) and I thought to myself, “what a diverse and colorful bunch of people we had supporting us, what a beautiful ‘family of friends’ we have been given–many as result of the Hotrod Church.” Now I like to joke (often), that the sinner part of the title is held by ‘yours truly’, though that part of the name came about more as a nod to the fact that we all know we are sinners and therefore don’t need to be told. At any rate, our last service in our little pizza restaurant will be Sunday, May 26. We are secure in the ending of this chapter, and we are excited for the next set of adventures our Lord in Heaven has for us…watch out homelessness, Brian’s got you on his radar! 🙂
Lastly (for now), is the present condition of my (our) son Cole. The good news, he is successfully living on his own. In fact, I will be surprised if he ever decides to come back home. This, in and of itself, is very positive, and I have to keep reminding myself of this truth. You see it is very difficult for my maternal eye to not fixate upon the things that aren’t so great–because it is in my nature to want to “fix” these things. Cole’s dependency upon narcotics and the cocktail of medications he receives, greatly disturbs my soul. Every day, I wait with anticipation to hear from him…when I do, I am thankful to have another day of assurance that he is alive. I have come to realize that this is my lot, the lot of being the mother. I will never have the ability to see my son through any other eyes than the maternal vision which was handed me at the time of his birth. I will always want the closest thing to perfection when evaluating his health and welfare. I will always utilize my critical eye with his circumstance because I am hoping for the best, most fulfilling life for my son. But what I have realized is that my maternal eye, and all that the concept encompasses, is not necessarily what he considers as “best.” And to that epiphany, I am learning to yield. So I am reminded, moment by moment, that he is making it…his way. And for today, that is a good and healthy place for him to be. It is his process, and I will take part as I am allowed, the challenge being not to take over! 😉
Well I will close within this theme. After all, it is Mother’s Day in the U.S.A. And though I had hoped to be given a quiver of 10, I have been blessed with my two natural born, who just by themselves make the quiver seem quite full! Yet in addition to the two, I have been blessed with many nieces and nephews (some of them technically cousins), young ladies who consider me a parental role model, children of longtime friends who humor me with their approval, and a few stragglers still grasping for any loving handout that comes their way…all of which bless my soul to play a part in their lives. Moreover, who make me realize that if my quiver of ten had in fact been given me, I would lack the capacity of mind for the dozens more I have been given in their stead.
P.s. I am sharing a piece of Hotrod Church history with the following video clip, including the fact our son is playing the drums while he was on leave from his military assignment…obviously pre-surgery.
Why begin the new year with mediocrity? Well, to answer the question as plain as I can, we are not.
To kick start our meander into 2013 we had the awesome pleasure of learning our daughter’s first semester as a full time college student ended with her gaining “A” grades in every class. And since my mother was in town when the good news arrived (her last visit before moving full time to the south American country of Nicaragua) we decided to have an ‘out to dinner’ celebration. Which we did, at a local Japanese-California fusion type restaurant. We had a magnificent time until I looked across the table and over at my son, only to realize with a single hand he was (literally) squeezing a restaurant spoon with such force that the head of the spoon found itself visiting with its tail. My son is strong to be sure, but this action was not customary even to him.
Turns out he was experiencing a significant amount of pain which led me to square up the bill in a hurry and get him home where his pain medication innocently awaited his return. Unfortunately not even prescription narcotics could avert the intensity of his anguish. Mind you, he has been through a lot…brain surgery, eye surgery, kidney stone passing, combat zone activity, etc. And yet, this amount of pain was causing him to have respiratory failure to the point his hands were numb and had turned blue. We watched him attempt to pull his hair out as he writhed on the bathroom floor awaiting the emergency crew who had just been summoned by me, via telephone. We were at a loss, what with no bloody wound to apply compression to. And no apparent heart attack, choking, or drowning in process. Only an abdominal pain so severe that the five of us (Cole included) weren’t sure if this was his last hour. HAPPY NEW YEAR! 😉
So off to the emergency room we went…for further celebration, of course! Thankfully Cole is still with us. He had an intestinal blockage and the ER doctor gave him the necessary shots, IV’s, and nutrients so Cole was able to return home and suffer out the rest of the process here at home. Now the day after our celebratory fiasco, my mom had to get to the airport, my son to his doctor, and my daughter to the store for a couple international necessities (voltage converter and the like). Those errands were accomplished and Esther was packed and ready to go.
Brian and I took Esther up to LAX airport (insisting to Cole he remain at home due to his tenuous circumstance and uncertainty of requiring a second trip to the hospital). We left our young world traveler in the hands of the long security line with the loving words of a TSA agent as her new found guide, “Where is your boarding pass? You need to be prepared!” Esther, in her inexperienced manner, had clipped all of her paperwork together…annoying the agent because she had to rifle through a few pieces to encounter the boarding pass. Brian and I left our little girl smiling anxiously, knowing the next step was unfamiliar for her, but having confidence she would learn even if from her mistakes.
The sea of security, LAX International
Mom’s shaky hand manning the camera, notice the boarding pass!
So she is now in France. She has already experienced a class at the university, the marketplace, the local cuisine, a 16th century apartment, and been introduced to various people. She called us this morning (via Skype) because she said her brain hurt from so much French–meaning, she is truly in an immersion situation and her abilities are being utilized and stretched beyond their present capacity. …mission accomplished! At this moment, with her host family, she is on her way to the coast and tomorrow they will venture into Spain. We couldn’t be more excited for her…and she is truly enjoying every moment of being there. …Touché to the movie, “Taken”…touché!
Now on another front, you might not believe this, but I am still sick! I actually finished my regimen of antibiotics last Friday, but after our trek to the hospital and then the days which followed with quite a lot of activity, I have again landed back on my ass (buttocks, not to be confused with my imaginary mule). What the heck? This is one tough repiratory virus, that is all I can say. And of course, when combating such a fierce microscopic bug, I do recommend staying far away from their known watering hole…the hospital. But like I was going to send my son off in an ambulance with a kiss and well wishes…NOT. So to the watering hole I went, and here I now sit as result.
The good news, 2012 shall not be outdone! We roll into this new year like a band of wild horses who know not which way they are headed; just off and running, as is their custom. Sweet Jesus, can you please keep the minions at bay?! For we just might want to nibble a small crumb of mediocrity for a spell. …I don’t know, it’s just a thought. 🙂
"I do not want people to be very agreeable, as it saves me the trouble of liking them a great deal."
-Jane Austin
"Me lo han quitado todo
-bueno, casi todo-
porque me queda la sonrisa
el orgullo de sentirme un hombre libre
y en el alma un jardín
de eterna florecitas."
-Armando Valladares 1981, La Mejor Tinta
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The Noise