I’ve thought about posting so many times over the past week… if only I’d been able to do it when things were fresh in my mind…
To go with my “fearless”, One Word for 2020, Sam was quite afraid about going to the hospital last weekend when he broke his tibia. The plan was for me to go in the ambulance with him, but then they said it would be better for me to drive there myself, so we’d have a vehicle to leave again–and I completely forgot that we’d just gotten me installed with Lyft so that wouldn’t happen. Which means seeing him go off fearfully into the ambulance was the last time I saw him until the next day when he was discharged. All because of Covid.
All that reminded me of how I’ve always taken his feelings on myself, almost as if I was him–even to the point of loving his girlfriend, and then I was probably more upset then he was when she broke up with him. When he had that stomach-scraping test I couldn’t even bear to be in the same room to watch him suffer; when he was in the hospital with appendicitis at 7 years old, I remember being in tears; and way back when he was only a few months old and several doctors were looking at his eyes, he was crying like he was going to die, and even though they told me it really wasn’t hurting him physically, I was also crying. That last one points out two things: not only was it me taking on his emotions, but he’s always been easily bothered by those kinds of things.
Thinking of these things made me wonder if I actually made things worse for him, each of these times. However, another fact about Sam: he is acutely aware of everything going on around him. This often means simple things like hearing all the words to songs (is that why he never liked sad songs as a child?) or knowing when I’ve sneaked a few chocolate drops out of the tin. But thinking emotionally… it makes him sensitive to others’ feelings as well. Like being indignant about women’s rights, or even using “she” in scripture vs just “he”. (Rabbit trail here…)
Back to the emergency thing. When I finally checked on him to see that he was OK, it felt so much better. And he told me later that the workers were all pretty good at (mostly likely trained for) calming you down. Which brings another thought to mind: being sensitive to the scary/negative emotions, might also mean you’re sensitive/responsive to the good ones. Easy enough to calm you down.
And that reminds me of the little thought that came to my mind while I was sitting there waiting and waiting, and worrying for Sam. It seemed like God was reminding me of the times we’d leave our wee guy with the babysitter, and he’d be crying so hard… but just a few minutes later, when I sneaked back and peeked in the window, he was already happy as a lark! I’m going to remember that for next time. :)
(This is long enough, so I think I’ll include the notes from July’s fearless journal with next month’s.)