What I Would Say

Good morning. Life has been pretty good, more or less, but it is a somewhat sober time of year. I think this is true even more this year due the events of two weeks ago today.

Sanford Castle of Care. This is where Cedric and Joseph were. There is a walkway just at the right edge of this picture that leads to the rest of the hospital; that is where I was. We spent a lot of time in this place and met some really fantastic people.

Last night as I was driving to and fro taking Joseph to and from his den meeting and Cedric and Seth to and from their troop meeting, I had some time to think; especially since I did not wait for Cedric and Seth. The last news I heard about Griffin is that he is still not awake; he is still in a coma. Not knowing the family and being privy to specific information, I don’t know anything more than that.

Seth. I didn't get to see him for the first couple of days.

What I do know is what it was like to sit and hold the hand of my son and my daughter, who were not awake. I do know how it feels to wonder what life is going to be like when they do wake up; and even when they are, how different will things be? How different will they be? Life will never be the same because Daniel is gone, but how much different will it be? What will our new normal look like? Before they woke up there were moments when I wondered if they would but mostly I just trusted that what was meant to be would be and that I would somehow be able to deal with it.

Amena. There were a couple of weeks when I seriously wondered if she would look like she had before because there was so much swelling on the right side of her face. All the bones miraculously went back where they needed to and now you really cannot tell.

I talked to them both about those thoughts and I let them know that whatever happened, everything would be okay; even if I could not see how. To say that none of us were changed by the experience would be an untruth. Even Joseph, whose physical injuries were minor scrapes and bruises, has been changed. Seth, if he ever has an x-ray of his right arm, will have noticeable physical changes. Cedric has a scar on his head that is evidence of his physical change and he does have trouble with his memory. He knows this and I make sure his teachers are aware. Amena can’t hear very well out of her right ear. She is aware of this and at first I made sure her teachers were aware; as time goes on I let her deal with it unless it seems she needs some parental intervention. Going deeper, there are some emotional scars that sometimes break open; sometimes they just twinge a little bit, sometimes they bring back floods of minute details.

Cedric. And me. There were too many tubes and needles to hold his hand at first but I could touch him and so I did.

What I was thinking about while driving back and forth is what I would say to Griffin if I were in a position to say anything. This is more or less what I came up with.

“I don’t know you well enough to call you Dude, but that’s what I call my own children unless it’s Dudette and you aren’t that so Dude it is.

“Hey, Dude, I know you probably don’t remember me. You probably remember Amena; she is in the same grade you are and has been since we moved here when she was in second grade. You might even remember Cedric; he would see you upon occasion when you were at football practice and he was at cross country practice. He is friends with Jacob Halfrey and saw you at their house sometimes, too. I wouldn’t expect you to remember Daniel; he was in the same grade as your sister, Brittany, but he was killed in the accident we were in just before 8^th grade. Maybe he was there to welcome her to post-mortal life.

“After our accident, I would sit with Amena and Cedric. They were both in medically induced comas for a time and then they were weaned off the drugs and were allowed to slowly return to us. I don’t know if your coma has been medically enhanced or not and ultimately, I don’t think it really matters. People say you’ve been responsive; that means you are still there and you are still fighting and that is what matters. Sometimes all a person needs is rest.

“Which reminds me of a story I read. I have a reputation for liking Star Wars and I do; I love the movies and I love what was the Expanded Universe books. I also love The Lord of the Rings and The Hobbit as well as Harry Potter. I happen to love a lot more books than I do movies and one of my favorite authors is James Harriet. He was a veterinarian in Great Britain and wrote quite a few books about his experiences. In one of his books, he relates the story of a sheep. I do not recall the specifics of what was wrong with the sheep, it may have been related to lambing; whatever the case, this particular ewe was not doing well. Mr. Harriet gave her what he thought was a lethal injection of a drug often used to put animals down and left. Several days later, the farmer had Mr. Harriet come and look at the animal. She was up and doing well. She’d been asleep for two or three days and apparently, that’s all she needed; rest. Human beings are quite resilient; I am praying that all you need is rest.

“No matter what, hang in there. Unless you’ve been talking to some heavenly messenger, which is quite possible, and therefore are aware of the plan, just keep on keeping on. Know that there are at least hundreds, probably thousands of people praying for you and your family.

“Know that whatever happens, life will never be the same again. I don’t mean to say that it will be bad or that you will never experience joy or happiness; just that life will never be the same as it was. Never. I know this. I live this.

“Know that whatever happens, there is a plan and you have a part in that plan; you and each member of your family. Ultimately, what I pray for is that each of you will be able to accept and embrace whatever the future holds because there will be pain and anguish, but there can be beauty and peace, as well.

“Hang in there, Dude, we’re rooting for you!”