When to Duct Tape

My daughter is having ACL (knee) surgery so I am writing. I walked with her into the hospital early this morning fighting the demons that churn in my soul regarding not only my own unpleasant experience with ACL reconstruction but perhaps more intensely the return to this hospital where I spent so much time watching my step father and mother suffer and where they both passed away within the past year and a half. I focus, as diligently as possible, on breathing. On keeping the focus on my daughter who, I sense, is concealing stuff of her own, but maybe not. I want to be available to her in the healthiest possible way from a mental perspective. That may mean that I allow for my uncomfortable feelings and once again release the reigns. I want to sprinkle positive energy on the scenario. I know that I can fake this, but I have become bad at pretending to be what is not my truth. I am surprised at how quickly I am able to shift gears after I permit my sadness and observe rather than judge.  I remind myself that this is Dreya’s experience that I have no business trying to control. As I move into my positive space I withdraw any judgement about what is taking place. I think that Dreya prefers my presence there but does not want advice or direction.  There are some things a mother just knows (a lot of things, actually).  However, I am finding that often times the children best learn about life by using their own unique Guidance systems. And sometimes, just sometimes the child is the better teacher. My input has its most impact when the contribution comes by way of example. From my daughter’s perspective I imagine that can be challenging for her when she once had the know-all mother. Until I became human. Confusing to my child, perhaps. On the one hand there are now unmet expectations, where history suggests “mom will fix it”.  On the other hand there is a trust, that she can do it on her own as I stand by and attempt unconditional support.  Still another scenario (somewhere in between the first two) lends itself to the me I am traveling toward; to the me I am aspiring to be. The situation looks like this: I know (I think I know), instinctually and through experience that this choice is best, but please pass the duct tape because putting it over my mouth is the only way I can contain myself. It is at that point when I say “Higher Power, please help and please take it”. My daughter is in recovery. (Recovery from her knee surgery actually, not the 12 step recovery that I have more closely identified IPHONE PICS 2030with in the past several years). She is her joyful and sarcastically humorous self. Her dad, my ex husband, is also present now. I too am joyful because she is well and the interaction between my ex and I is better than its been. An assistant walks in and offers my daughter a nerve block. It’s another procedure to numb the leg for the first 18-24 hours of her recovery. As he explains, I hear the risks and disadvantages. I want my daughter to be comfortable but not at the risk of being uncomfortable. This is a duct tape moment as I see my daughter and my ex agreeing to  the procedure without question.  I feel like I’m watching an ad to a drug commercial.  They are sold.  I am silent. “Your turn, God”. With a few moments of self talk, I accept that all will be okay with this decision that I silently disagree with and also sense that my opinion would be unwelcome anyway .  I am able to let go.  Moments after that, enter Doctor ACL Surgeon. “I don’t really recommend the Nerve Block because…etc. etc. “. He looks at me mostly while explaining and thank goodness for the duct tape or else I would engage. I just nod and express the relief through my eyes and feel it mostly in my soul. This growth opportunity stuff is unbelievable.  Knowing when to keep quiet and when to let it go and when to acknowledge feelings instead of denying them is a guidance worth paying attention to. My daughter is doing amazing!  It iIPHONE PICS 2041s the morning after the first day and I am so encouraged by her attitude and ease with the onset of this recovery. She is not complaining of pain and is inspiring me. She has led this process and I have been there more as a presence than a dictator. So maybe this is one of those times that this child has been the better teacher. Pretty cool stuff.

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