Recently I have had ample opportunity to contemplate the roller coaster of life, and the effect love has on the overall scheme of things. Sitting beside Spenser's hospital bed as he fought for life has taken me to the emotional extremes. In the four weeks since my son's accident, I have experienced everything from gut wrenching, heart stopping fear to exhilarating, unbounded joy. The knowledge l have gained from this experience has not come easy, and I do not recommend this type of training to anyone. I do, however, pray that the lessons my son has taught me during his ordeal will continue long after this incident has become a distant memory, and that they will retain the same clarity and depth I now know.
One thing I have learned from all of this is that Laurie and I are connected at the hip when it comes to our combined weight. When she is stressed, Laurie does not eat and her weight plummets. I, on the other hand, cope with stress most effectively with a cookie in my hand. Our different ways of managing anxiety reminds me of the Popeye cartoon characters Olive Oyl and Wimpy. Olive Oyl lives on love, while Wimpy is in constant search of his next hamburger. The redeeming element in our recent experiences is that Laurie's love encompasses and supports everyone she encounters. I, however, can only watch my waist grow, and hope my belt has adequate expansion holes to manage this crisis.
Not long ago I read a thesis which focused on the founders of Bluff and what they experienced during the early days of the town's colonization. The thesis noted that the pioneers built their initial shelters in close proximity to each other; in spite of an abundance of open land. By doing so, the settlers protected themselves from disgruntled Indian tribes and minimized the ravaging effects of this harsh environment. These settlers were people who had been uprooted from the comforts of civilization and re-rooted in a remote, desolate, unforgiving landscape; they needed each other to survive and counted on the group for moral and practical support.
The immigrants often complained about knowing far too much about each other's business, misbehaving children, barking dogs and all manner of disagreeable circumstances resulting from their living conditions. It was not until they felt more comfortable with their surroundings and had developed relationships with the Native people that the settlers started to spread out and give themselves more room to breath. At that point they also began to understand just how important their early relationships and close proximity to each other had been.
The pioneers realized how much support, care and understanding they had provided each other while they lived in that small camp. They had grown to love one another, and that love allowed them to prosper in a difficult environment. I have seen this same situation develop as a result of Spenser's accident. The small closely knit communities in which we live have rallied around us in love and support, and I am truly humbled by the experience.
While sitting with Spenser late one night I began to feel particularly down and was reminded of my paternal grandfather Woody. At the time of his death, I had not yet begun to understand my grandfather's views on life, and was feeling cheated because of the lost opportunity. As I stood at his burial site looking into the darkness of his grave, I was overwhelmed with sadness. At that point three of my childhood friends stepped up and placed their hands on my shoulders. The love and compassion my friends transferred to me through their gentle touch provided the much needed support I required to make it through that difficult time. I feel that same support now from the many friends who have lent their love to Spenser.
The prayers, fasting and expressions of love we have received on Spenser's behalf have amazed my family. The flowers, cards, e-mail messages and donations of money and food have taught us so much about love and the people who have been willing to share that love with us. I personally appreciate the hugs the most. As for the food, I have to stop. I have absorbed so much nourishment of late that I am becoming less like Popeye and more like Wimpy.
Sincerely,
Barry
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