Parker had a good, rest-filled day today and is gearing us up for tomorrow.
His fever is completely gone and he regains some of his strength and movements every day.
He is not putting on much weight and is not overly interested in eating. This was somewhat typical for him pre-meningitis as he has always been the smaller twin. They let him try pudding and pureed vegetables today but neither was a big success.
The speech therapist came and talked to us about what we could look forward to in terms of support and answer some questions. We are working through what it would mean to us to have him learning French as a primary language and we are all gearing up to learn sign language.
A psych-motor specialist that came to work with him a bit today, we didn't really know what she was supposed to do compared to the physical therapist but as she explained it she is here to help find things that Parker likes to do. She and Renee spent a couple of minutes swinging him in a hammock made from bed sheets.
The girls were excited to come by and see their brother tonight. I picked them up from school and they decided we would take the bus because the metro has too many germs. They were also anxious to show off the one phrase in sign language that they already knew-- 'I love you'. Hannah kept confusing the U with a V but I know he got the message.
Somewhat realizing the gravity of the fact that he was going in for brain surgery tomorrow, we asked Dave Arnold and Dave Daniel to come by and give Parker a blessing. We were all comforted and hopeful that this surgery will bring progress.
He is now sleeping with his tussled blond hair seeming to be shifting a little bit back to blond. He looks like a much older boy than he did three weeks ago.
We continue to be uplifted by those who have trodden difficult paths before but yet find strength to reach out to us and offer support.
I think the hardest part for us is realizing how we have been so blind to the suffering and pain that others have been through-- preferring perhaps to convince ourselves that somehow everyone elses lives have been free from sorrow we go through our lives with eyes nearly closed so that we won't feel obligated to reach out or lend comfort. Perhaps there is something about travelling those dark paths of doubt that make them desire, perhaps need, to reach out to others and provide comfort as they may have sought, and hopefully found, the same on their own journeys.
A dear friend, of a dear friend sent us an article which had the following quote:
"When, for the moment, we ourselves are not being stretched on a particular cross, we ought to be at the foot of someone else's—full of empathy and proffering spiritual refreshment."
We all have our particular crosses to bear, no one will make it through life without some level of challenge, disappointment, suffering. Renee and I have been more public in our dealing with challenge yet I hope that we learn to better perceive those around us, close to us, who have very personal, private crosses to bear and that somehow, we can help them through their suffering.
