Jump

I went to Isaac’s track meet yesterday not wearing a bra. I bought a dress with what was called, online, a built in bra but all evidence is to the contrary. The only thing “built in” to that dress was a shelf upon which I could rest my boobs. I didn’t really care and that felt enormously freeing. Wearing a bra sucks and nothing makes you realize that quite like having a hectic life. Why do breasts need slings? Really…why?

The meet was in Gardner, Massachusetts which turned out to be a full hour and 45 minutes away from here. He was going to the middle school state’s championship meet for 100m hurdles which he is pretty damn good at. The whole process was overwhelming from start to finish, the end resulted with him just wanting to get back in the car as fast as he could. God knows how many schools were there. It was all A LOT and I think he felt true pressure for one of the first times in his life. He didn’t place and was mad at himself for that. “You showed up and did it. You should be proud of yourself. Are you proud of yourself?” He shrugged his response, pulling the strings on his brand new state’s sweatshirt that set us back $72 and worth every penny. By the time we got in the drive thru for McDonald’s, the old Isaac was back, asking for a blue raspberry Fanta slushy to pair with his 10-piece pack of McNuggets and fries. I once told him that I believe he exists solely on carbs and chemicals, “I was made in a lab by Dr. Paul” he told me. “Whenever you leave the room, Dr. Paul calls me number one.”

Prior to the big meet, this week was yet another challenging one being a piece of baloney in this sandwich of a multigenerational home. Dad had a little setback that took away his ability to talk and feed himself all for it to come back 36 hours later. We have another tank in this house. Given his current age, condition, and progression we are moving forward with more of a hospice approach to his care. I know, I know. The word hospice tends to shock/upset/confuse people and, trust me, I get it. It really hasn’t changed much of what we are doing except that, when setbacks like what happened this week happen-we call the Norwell VNA, not 911. That was difficult for all of us to swallow. He is off of a couple medications but not the ones that keep him comfortable. He is at home with us. He is cared for and loved. He loves us all too—still calling each of us “Dear”, even Janice Callahan who stopped by on her run (the first words he had said that day).

I have no crystal ball for what is going to happen over the next couple of months. My family has plans for the summer. Good ones. Trees are coming down in our yard, the bathroom is getting renovated, rooms will get painted, I will write, most of us will read, and hopefully I manage to lose 15-20 pounds so that my boobs are less shelfy in my new dress. All of this will evolve as Dad progresses and we, his kids/wife/crew, support and love him. Watching my Isaac gracefully clear all of the hurdles yesterday made me tear up in pride. The kid who once had no words and spun in circles at restaurants when overwhelmed is really killing it these days. His grace when confronting those obstacles yesterday is the image I will take with me this Summer and on this next leg of our family’s journey. Keep clearing those hurdles, just keep jumping.