My Unwanted Inheritance

I've taken a break from blogging in order to deal with my unwanted inheritance. 

No, nobody died. 

Let me explain a bit.....

When Samuel was diagnosed with cancer and then had numerous complications resulting in the gain and loss of body parts in order to survive, it became very important to us to accurately document the medical facts as well as our decision making process every step of the way.  Our main reasoning was that Samuel was only two years old when one round of chemotherapy changed his body forever and he would not remember any of it later in life and would one day need to know the details of how his body came to be the way that it was.  We wanted to be able to provide him with every detail of how he came to inherit that imperfect physical body, as well as whatever emotional strengths or weaknesses he might have inherited by enduring it all.   My hope, had he lived, would be that he'd read the journal and not only come to a better understanding of what happened to his body, but that it would also affirm that he was never alone in any of it.  That he was always surrounded by love.   His entire family put their "regularly scheduled lives" on hold in order to be fully present with him when the worst things happened and continued to happen.   My utmost desire was that the journal would become for him a continued confirmation of what he spoke to me days before going to Heaven, "Mama, I will always know how much you love me."

When traumas happen to very young children who do not have the capacity to comprehend them, it is your job as parents to help them cope and heal as best they can while they are still little.   Later on, as they are able to comprehend things more like an adult, you will need to help them understand the things that happened to them so that any lingering issues can be resolved.  If you did your job properly when they were young, that adult conversation may still be difficult but should not leave you feeling guilty for the choices you made.  If however, you are one of those parents who believe and act on the lie that, "They'll never remember it so let's pretend it never happened," or worse, you either do not believe that the trauma occurred, or you blame and punish them for it, the adult conversation you will have one day will be much harder because your child will have recognized that much of the unwanted part of their inheritance could have been avoided had you done your job properly.

Trauma leaves footprints all over a child's life regardless of age but if it is addressed quickly and completely, those footprints will lessen over time.   However, if those footprints are not addressed and the trauma remains unresolved, its imprints deepen and follow a child well into adulthood   Even if the person cannot remember a trauma in full detail, their body's memories of a trauma will manifest as PTSD, or the unwanted inheritance.  PTSD stemming from childhood trauma is the continued screams for help from the inner child who is still fully entrenched in the trauma.   Recognizing this fact at any age is an important first step in resolving the trauma and at the same time, comforting the child who up until this moment, has not been fully heard or helped.

We worried so much in the beginning about Samuel having PTSD in hospitals or with medical personnel based on that first three months of hell.  We were devastated to think that our loving, happy, outgoing, always smiling boy would likely end up frightened, reserved and easily angered by everything and everybody after that.  Who wouldn't be after 20+ surgeries, people poking and prodding him at all hours of the day and night, etc?   But, as many of you know, that never happened.  Quite the opposite happened.  He quickly decided he liked the hospital and for the most part, he liked all the staff.  He may have lost his smile for a few months, but it came back promptly.  We were relieved, amazed very grateful that he never showed signs of PTSD.  His spirit was never broken by any of the tragedies that befell him.  I count that as a miracle but I'm also fully aware that we played a very important role in it.

I was visiting with my (former) neighbor the other day and the conversation turned to Samuel.  Two of her children were very young when Samuel was here and they do not remember him.  The two older ones do remember Samuel and they feel frightened when they think of all the awful things that happened to him.  Frightened as in, if they get sick, maybe all those things will happen to them.  We talked about how all the things that happened to Samuel were so rare and the impossibility of all of them happening to another child.  I related that I've still not found another family whose child has lived through that many complications and that's when it dawned on me, and my neighbor as well: Samuel survived and even thrived as much as he did, for as long as he did, because he was loved and supported in every way imaginable.  We never gave up trying to help him live with dignity and quality no matter what obstacle stood in the way or how bad things appeared.  Samuel had no worries, anxieties or PTSD burdening him.  We took on all those things so that he was free to live and enjoy the good days that he did get.  Every time he got a reprieve, he never spent that time worrying about when the pain would come back.  He never thought of anything beyond enjoying that moment.  Every time some new woe struck, it seemed to surprise him more than anyone else.  One of the most heartbreaking days for us was the day he finally asked us why he was always the one who got sick.  We knew on that day that he was finally old enough to notice (and be angry about) what he had been watching for the past four years.   And even after that day, he never gave up trying to endure it so he could stay here with us.  This is such a stark contrast to the way I felt when I was his age. (6)   By then, I was tormented by my unwanted inheritance and left to sort it out under condemnation and all by myself.  The sheer impossibility of a six year old processing those circumstances shocks me to this day.  I would have welcomed the opportunity to go to Heaven.

The holiday seasons always torment me as I remember what they were like when I was a child.   Every year, my unwanted inheritance paints everything with gloom even though decades have passed.  I somehow manage to smother it with busyness and the hope that there will come a year when it doesn't return with a vengeance.   But after 30+ years, it doesn't appear that it's going away on its own.   In 2010's holiday season, I made some good progress on resolving a piece of my unwanted inheritance.  But as I found out this last holiday season, it was only a piece.  An important piece, but a piece nonetheless.  There are still many more pieces to resolve and it's never been more obvious to me that it is now time to fully focus on this.  I am so tired of being burdened by my unwanted inheritance every time I turn around so this past season I did something I've never done before:  I found a support group for "survivors" of this specific trauma in order to be able to speak freely about the unspeakable things that have happened to me in a place where I am actually heard and understood.  

It's been very good and very painful to begin to dissect parts of this and to identify the pieces that still need to be resolved so that I will finally be able to get rid of my unwanted inheritance.  I'm finding it's like untangling a large skein of yarn that has been tied into a massive knot.   It's frustrating and feels never ending and impossible at times to even grasp the gigantic mess that has been laid in my lap.   As I untangle it, I find more unexpected horrible knots tied in ways I never knew existed.  I ask myself, "How did this happen?  How could this happen?  Who let this happen?" over and over fully knowing the answers.   Realizing this could have all been avoided just adds to the underlying sorrow of the process but knowing that people are able to release themselves from the prison that their unwanted inheritances have left them in is what keeps me going.  The strength to endure this process comes from the grace, guidance, truth and covering of God.   

It probably would not surprise you to know that Samuel has been very obviously near me these past months as well.   He has always felt the sorrows of my heart deeply, both on Earth and from Heaven, and never lets me carry them alone.  He is such a good boy and his presence blesses me so much.

All this said, blogging will be light and sporadic for awhile while I work through some things. I appreciate your prayers.   My family is well.  Kids busy with school.  Bud got a Christmas present I cannot wait to share with you all, just need pics.  More snow hiking with Mark coming up possibly this weekend.  God is always good.