spynotes ::
  July 25, 2006
Pedalling

I think yesterday was the first weekday in some time where I have not even attempted to post. What can I say? It was too hot. I had to clean the house and play chauffeur to AJ. The dog ate my homework.

Yesterday I took AJ to a park at the top of one of the highest hills in the area to ride his bike. The bike riding area is fairly flat and the views of the river valley are lovely. But mostly, AJ likes it because the sidewalks that wind through the play equipment are set up like roads, with dotted yellow lines down the middle, stop and one way signs and speed limit signs warning cyclists not to go above 5 miles an hour. There�s even a mock parking lot with pretend parking meters, all of which say they are out of money, just like the real world.

AJ has needed some persuading to ride his bike and having a pretend road in a city made of jungle gyms was just the ticket. He pedaled around and around until I thought we�d better get out of the midday sun, being neither mad dogs nor Englishmen.

Today AJ is back at camp. He was particularly excited about this session because his friend N. was going to be there. We arrived this morning, though, and did not see his name on the attendance list and our faces fell. AJ was sad not to see his friend. I was worried because I know his father, who has a brain tumor, has been getting steadily worse. But shortly before it was time to start, N and his mom and brother arrived. His name had been inadvertently left off the list. AJ�s smile, at least, returned. But N�s dad�s condition has, indeed, continued to deteriorate. He�s now confined to bed and wheelchair, virtually paralyzed. N�s dad is well over 6 feet tall � I�d guess 6�4�. His wife is scarcely 5 feet. Although she�s a trained nurse, she can�t lift him herself. Moreover, since her husband can�t work, she�s having to pick up the slack and take more hours at the hospital. She�s now faced with finding care not just for her 5 year old and two year old but also for her husband. The situation is absolutely heart-breaking.

I�ve found myself thinking about a book I mentioned a week or so ago, Michelle Wildgen�s new novel, You�re Not You, which describes the relationship between caregiver and a woman dying of ALS (Lou Gehrig�s disease), how wrapped up in each others� lives they get. The caregiver becomes aware of functioning as a stand-in for her employer � doing all the things she would do if she could do them herself, including talking for her (speech is one of the early deteriorations of ALS, according to the novel). She willingly loses herself in the person she cares for whom she admires greatly. At the same time, the woman she cares for sees in her caregiver a view to the world she used to know. She lives through her to some degree as well.

The thing that amazes me about N�s mother is how she just seems to roll with whatever is thrown her way. I�m sure it doesn�t always feel like it to her. But she�s the picture of life going on in the way it must go. The children have to get to school. Money needs to be earned. She doesn�t seem to dwell on at all on the �why us� questions, which haunt me when I think of them. She is focused on the question of �how do we do this?� I can�t imagine what it is like to watch you husband � your young and formerly healthy husband � die slowly and painfully in front of your children. I want to help because no one should have to do that and because I�m so glad it�s not us. I feel a little guilty about that last half, but it�s true. I look at N. and wonder what AJ would be like if he were in that situation. AJ doesn�t know what�s going on. He just loves N because he is who he is, which is probably one of the best things of all. It�s probably the best thing we have to offer at the moment.

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