Flooding

About a year ago the nearby lake swelled to such proportions that it broke the dike, flooded across the roadway and overtook a sunken marshy area on the other side. For some time the road was closed off only available for one way traffic until enough manpower had contained the flooded area sufficiently to reopen the road. The consensus was to leave the dike breached and the re-claimed farmland was now re-re-claimed lake bed. So is the case on the other side of the road where the sunken marshy area had been as well. There is a partially protruding, large piece of farm equipment standing as a lone testament to what happened just a year ago. Otherwise, all looks to be "normal" - the water looks like it is suppose to be where it is now, the road has large concrete barriers protecting it supposedly in case of further attempts to flood overboard.

For some reason, i recently felt a connection to the lone, rusting piece of farm equipment which lay all but forgotten in the midst of it's watery grave. It had once been useful, of value, now, it lay decomposing, rotting, still, doing nothing. Maybe its stance provided a memory of its former glory to other passersby, like it did for me. Had I ever been able to make someone fully appreciate my former glory? Not likely.

Later that same day I experienced a flood of a different sort. While not one of water, but of emotion and memory, it seemed just as powerful, if not more so. I had to take my 6 year old for a sleep deprived EEG to check for absence seizure disorder. It was in the same place I had to take his little brother to check for cystic fibrosis with a sweat-test. Both children had, at their individual tests, cooperated fully and been amazingly wonderful-what troopers! However, something about seeing my underweight 6 year old with a skull-cap full of cameras and wiring was overpowering to me. it reminded me of when he was born and in the nursery for 10 days at our local hospital before being air-life-flown to this hospital. I had learned with grace & skill how to hold him with all the wiring attached & the oxygen tube. It had seemed oddly easy to hold him without all the various machines hooked to him. He had weighed over 8 pounds at birth and was made to loose weight to help him breathe better. now, he's just a little stick boy. I had tried so hard to deny those memories, to push them out and now here they all were kicking me in the teeth again - six years later. It was very creepy to feel so helpless, to view my son through the eyes of someone only seeing the medical problems or apparatuses, rather than seeing with the love of a mother who can see past all that to the child within. I was so thankful to get him unhooked and awake, to leave, to receive such a good report afterward. Praise God!

Then we made our way past the "flood zone" again to find our way back home. Once there the letdown, the meltdown, the "God I need a nap & to forget we just did all this" occurred. Finally, an anxiety medication helped combat that emotional flood and sweet, blessed, glorious sleep followed.

Just two days before all of this my teenage daughter came to spend the night and go boating with us the next day. She let me hold her which is no small thing. I was able to stroke her hair, to wipe her tears to share our pains in a cathartic release, to embrace her and remind her she always had a home in our house and in our hearts. She is moved back in now! That was a flood of emotion and triumph and answered prayers right there as well. So, excuse, please Dear Readers, this water-logged entry, which has little or nothing to do with water at all. But, as you can see, I've been experiencing flooding all week. I'm luckily feeling like I have a life preserver to hang onto with one hand and the other hand free to help maneuver me about the deep and sometimes murky waters/emotions of life. I wish you the same life preserver Dear Readers, be blessed!