Impaired

                   
    A while back, I wrote poems. I have no illusions that what I wrote was good poetry. I just wrote as a way to express and to record the way I was feeling. Poetry did for me then what this blog does for me now. They both give me that "aaahhhh" feeling. Like when you have a little pus pocket of infection somewhere and the fullness of it causes that pressure-pain. For awhile you live with it, cause you fear the cure more than you fear the pain. But the moment you stick a needle in it and some of the pain is relieved, you say "aaaahhhh". Oh, there's still stuff left in there, and there's still healing to do, but just starting the process lets off some of that pressure.
    When you read this blog, I hope you gain insight for your own life, but my primary goal is of selfish intent; to express and record my observations of my life.

                              IMPAIRED

          She entered my life a broken treasure;

          My dreams for a child exchanged for the nightmare of a diagnosis.

          The doctor’s words cursed her life.

          Sentenced her to be less than whole.

          But the ‘who she is’ becomes larger than the ‘what I fear’,

          And the verdict fades ‘til I forget.

          I find it’s we, who are impaired,

          For lack of sight, we miss her gift.                                                                   Summer, 2006 - 15 years old

                   Annemarieke     

                                     

   When Emily was born, I had only a few pre-conceived notions of what Down Syndrome would mean to our child, to our family, and it wasn't pleasant.  All I knew was that kids with DS were kept in a separate class in our school and grew up to be adults that either lived in nursing homes or with their elderly parents.  I had seen an man with DS, maybe 40 years old, in Wal-Mart, his mother still holding his hand as she shopped. 
   Those images scared the **** out of me.  But she was flesh of my flesh and I had carried her next to my heart for 9 months, and the love that came from that gave me the willingness to sacrifice my life for her.
   Who she became surpassed all those pre-conceived ideas.  Oh, sure, she had cognitive delays, but she was smart in people skills.  She was part of a Girl Scout troop for 7 years, played on a summer ball team, went to a week-long camp 3 years in a row.  Through a job program at school, she worked at Ryan's restraunt. Although she had bilateral moderate to severe hearing loss, she was bilangual. The spoken language she heard was garbled, but she understood what she heard.  She could speak, but it came out of her mouth, just like it went in her ears - garbled. We were unable to understand most of what she said, so to communicate we used sign language.  Anyone who took enought time to let her, she blessed.  There will be lots of stories about that in futures entries.
   The truth of it all is that while I had thought it would be a sacrifice to mother Emily, it was quite the opposite. I learned more from her than I taught her; received more from her than I gave her.  Having Emily made me better.





  

              

Forgot to remember

   The other day, I watched Home Alone: Lost in NY with my nieces and nephews.  Kevin said to the pigeon lady "I don't think they forgot you, I think they just forgot to remember you."
  You know how it is.  You graduate from high school and your best friend chooses a different life path than you do. Or, your best neighbor moves to a different state.  You intend to remain close, but in the busy-ness of your own life, those relationships fade from the present to the past,  fade from reality to  memory.
    But it's not just about the people who are "out of sight, out of mind", it's also about the people with whom you share your life.  If you're like me, I've focused on the details but lost sight of the whole.  I've worked tirelessly for others and ended up too tired for intimacy with my beloved.  I've lived a parallel life beside and put off  uniting with the one I'd promised to cherish.   It wasn't that I had forgotten my husband, I had just forgotten to remember: forgotten to remember why I was first attracted to him; forgotten to remember why I had said "I do"; forgotten to remember the closeness of new love.
  Who knew that watching that seemingly childish movie would have such an impact on me?  But Kevin's statement reminded me that relationships are more important than my 'thing's to do' list; that relationships don't survive without constant attention; that 'time spent' with something or someone is the barometer of its value; and that honeymoon is not necessarily a destination, but state of mind.
   Now go. Go now. Don't wait! Life is short!. Have fun!  And don't forget to remember what and who is really important to you.

Lesson from an estate sale

   This weekend, my siblings and I will be having an estate sale at the house that had been home for my parents for 49 years. We've been going through the stuff since February.   It's been a roller coaster of emotions as memories of my parents resurfaced. 
   If you watch the show "American Pickers", you'll have an idea of what we faced.  There's been the dismaying discovery of items that have decayed to the point of uselessness, 3 dumpsters full so far.  On the other hand, there have been some very cool surprises: documents that pertain to our parent's and grandparent's immigration from Holland in 1956, familiar pictures that have been rediscovered, and newspaper clippings that have introduced me to aspects of my parent's lives that I didn't know.
   Pop never threw anything away that could be used again.  And he picked up things that other people threw away that he felt could be used later.  ie: In the corner of the basement, hung an WWII uniform and the Honorable Discharge papers that had belonged to a neighbor.  I called his grand-niece and offered it back to the family.  It turns out that without the discharge papers, he had been ineligible to be recognized as a Veteran.  This was the first year that a flag was placed on his grave on Memorial day!    We have no idea why that uniform was in Pop's basement, but what we do know, is that now it's home.
   Mom was an avid reader and  a linguist.  She spoke fluent Dutch, French, German, and English and got by with Spanish and American Sign Language. The house is full of books, in all those languages.  There's even a Bible in Chinese and several books in  Hebrew.  Who knew?
   As I've worked at getting ready for this sale,  I've had time to think about end of my life.  What will be left when I leave this life?  Stuff? or will I leave a legacy in the lives that I've touched?

   Matthew 6:19-21 ¹⁹ “Do not store up for yourselves treasures on earth, where moths and vermin destroy, and where thieves break in and steal. ²⁰ But store up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where moths and vermin do not destroy, and where thieves do not break in and steal. ²¹ For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.

Memorial Day: Remembering Emily

                                         Memorial Day: Remembering Emily,
                          heart warmer, joy bringer, memory maker, my daughter 
                 
                                           You rose into my life like a sunrise
                                   brightening my days with the light in your eyes

Seth & Emily at 1 week

What one loves in childhood
stays in the heart forever

Skydiving

your laughter brings sunshine into our home

Seth & Emily

Forever my brother, always my friend

on Vacation in Paducah

You are a unique and unrepeated miricle

Hiking at Garden of the Gods

When I count my blessings,
I count you twice

Emily adored her big brother

Families are like quilts
Lives pieced together
stitched with memories
bound with love

loved the water

cool in the pool

wearing my shirt, talking to Oma

Welcome to the land of pretending, where joy is never ending

Loved horse-back riding, she had no fear.

There's a little cowboy in all of us

Girl Scouts: Megan, Emily & Heidi

the best things in life aren't things, they're FRIENDS

At the Mother-Daughter Campout

You are the sparkle in my eyes
the twinkle in my toes
And the kiss on my heart

I surprised Emily when I went to pick up her up from summer camp.
I imagine this will be the look on her face when she greets me in heaven.

You fill a place in my heart 
that I didn't know was empty

signing/singing Christmas Carols at the mall
with her class from the School of the Hearing Impaired.

You are my merry at Christmas, and all year, too



Emily Anne Gipson
4-4-2091 - 4-9-2007

Life is not measures by the number of breaths we take
but by the moments
that take our breath
away

I've grown accustomed to his face.

   The last couple of posts have been heavy with memories, heavy in my heart.  I've tried to write the next one in the series, but can't just yet.  I'll get back to it later.

   There's nothing like absence that makes the heart grow fonder.  Ray was out of town for just over 24 hours, and returned last evening.  Even though I kept busy, I was lonely. I don't think I've been taking him for granted, but like this song from one of my favorite musicals, "My Fair Lady", says: I've grown accustomed to his looks, accustomed to his voice, accustomed to his face."

                                     "I've Grown Accustomed To His Face"

I've grown accustomed to his face,
He almost makes the day begin,
I've grown accustomed to the tune he whistles night and noon.
His smiles, his frowns, his ups, his downs

are second nature to me now, like breathing out and breathing in.

I was so really independent and content before we met,
Surely I could always be that way again and yet
I've grown accustomed to his looks,
Accustomed to his voice,
Accustomed to his face.
I've grown accustomed to his face,
He almost makes the day begin.
I've gotten used to hear him say good morning everyday.
His joys, his woes, his highs, his lows
Are second nature to me now, like breathing out, breathing in


  The hospital doesn't close down and women don't stop having babies just because it's a holiday, so we all work holidays (and their eves) on a rotation schedule. But, if census is low, there's a drawing to see who gets to stay home, on standby, until we're needed to come in.   This year, I'm scheduled for Memorial day so I'm supposed to work today and tomorrow.  But this morning, I got drawn for stand-by!  I'll be the first to call back, but until then, I'm gonna spend some time with my husband!

   Have a Happy Memorial day to you all.  Spend a little time in memories for those not with you, and then celebrate living!!!

Emily, Seth, Anne, Ray, Christina & Noah, Kelly

2006

                             

Footprints in the sand

  Yesterday, I wrote the beginning of the story of Emily. Today I'll tell you more.  Better get your kleenex.
  
"Do not look around you in terror and be dismayed for I am your God. I will strengthen and harden you to difficulties, yes, I will help you, and I will hold you up and retain you with my victorious right hand of rightness and justice." Isaiah 40:10

   Several times, that verse has come to me. Each time it came unexpectedly, but just when I needed it.  The first time I heard it was before Emily was born.  It was fresh in my heart when we found out that she had Down Syndrome.
   15 months later, Emily got sick.  That in itself wasn't unusual. She'd had frequent ear infections, but this was different. She refused to eat and was short of breath. The diagnosis:  morgagni's diaphragmatic hernia. She had surgery, then spent the next 12 days on a ventilator. Three days after being weaned off, we finally went home!. 

                                  With every "cursing" comes the "blessings" ! 

    Emily was in St. Louis Children's Hospital.  The staff was amazingly wise and kind and took special care of Emily's medical needs and my emotional needs.
    When my sick time benefit ran out, my co-workers donated their vacation time so that I could have a full paycheck while I stayed there for the 15 days.
   On Sunday, my mom and I went to a church service in the hospital chapel.  The chaplain  opened the Bible and began to read... yup, you guessed it... Isaiah 40:10.  It felt like God was speaking directly to me. He said, "I will hold you up and retain you"
   I personally experienced the poem.  "Footprints in the Sand"   The last part says:   
        "my precious child,I love you and I would never leave you. 
        During your times of trial and suffering, when you see only one set of  footprints,
        it was then that I carried you."
 That word best describes how I felt during the most frightening time of my life: 'Carried'.  There was  absolutely nothing I could do about the situation but rely on God. I felt like a  little girl, being carried in her father's arms.

   That lesson changed me. Even now, when situations arise, I remember how God took care of us, I lean back in his arms and know He's still taking care of me.  I know, that I know, that I know, in the deepest part of me, that I am His child and that He, as my Father, with love, in His desire for me to be the best me, prepares me for challenges, helps me through those challenges and celebrates the victories.
   So, was it a cursing? or was is a blessing?

  

  

She made me believe

     I'm not a Bible thumping, preach it to the hills kind of girl. I'm just a believer in God. Period. I believe there is one God who sees all, knows all and is all. I don't believe in co-incidences. I believe that God orchestrates all things in our lives - the" good" things and the "bad" things.   And the reason I believe... is because I've lived it.

   There used to be a TV show called "The 'A' Team" - a good guy/bad guy kind of show. At the end of the show, the leader of the good guys says, "I love it when a plan comes together."

   I can picture God, leaning against a tree, arms folded, a grin on His face, saying that about us. 

   Did you know she had Down Syndrome before she was born?" I hear that question a lot.  No, we didn't have that diagnosis before,but, looking back at it all, I now know that, for a very long time, God had been preparing me to be Emily's mother.     

                         

    You how sometimes you get a song stuck in your head and can't get it out?  It was kind of like that - except it wasn't a song, and it wasn't in my head.  It was a verse and it was in my heart. 

     "Do not look around you in terror and be dismayed for I am your God.  I will strengthen and harden you to difficulties, yes, I will help you, and I will hold you up and retain you with my victorious right hand of rightness and justice."  Isaiah 40:10 

    I first heard that verse when I was about 7 months pregnant.  Barb Munson gave it to me during church.

   Then, in  March of '91, I wrote in my journal:

             Dear Jesus, Your word says to Jeremiah (1:5) Before I formed you in the womb, I knew

             you.  Before you were born, I set you apart…" I know, Lord, that you know this child.  Set 

             this child apart as your servant, as a vessel who will be willing to be used by you. 

    As a nurse in Labor & Delivery, I was frequently asked during my pregnancy if I knew if my baby was a boy or a girl. I'd say "No." and invariably, the next statement would be, "Well, it doesn't really matter, as long as it's healthy." 

   That statement started bugging me, and by my 9th month, it was difficult not to retort back, "What would you do if it's not healthy?" 

    When I first saw her face, I knew Emily had Down Syndrome. 

                                                       

   I was not surprised, and neither was I immediately dismayed. That came later.  That evening, when everyone had finally gone home, and Emily was in the nursery, I sat in the shower for hours, heart broken, grieving for the "perfect"  baby that wasn't mine.  Then I remembered Isaiah 40:10.  When I came out, I had gotten past "Why me?" and had moved on to "What now?".   

   Used to be, at the hospital, that there were inspirational quotes printed on the the sugar packets.  On my supper tray, the sugar packet read: 

                           If you don't get the things that you want, think about the things

                           that you don't want, that you don't get."

   It no longer mattered that she wasn't "perfect" in my eyes, I knew she was perfect in His.

   It all made sense, too.  The seemingly unrelated incidences came together for one purpose.  God had prepared my heart to become Emily’s mother.