love actually

When I was violently ill the other week with something like the flu I posed myself a question that might seem a bit weird to you, but perhaps not. The question went something like this. As bad as this is, would I endure it all again if I could take it away from my son who was recovering from the same bug. That may seem odd to you, but in midst of vomiting and experiencing the worst of it, I answered in my heart with an honest yes.

I’ve said I loved people in the past, but when you have your own kid you learn a lot about yourself and what it really means to love. When my dad was in the thick of cancer I was deeply disturbed. I did everything I knew how including offering up many prayers on his behalf. When I heard countless reports from my siblings about their sick children, I would pray for them and move on with life. In the midst of all of these and other less than stellar moments my friends and family and even my own life, I would pray, do what I could, but I never lost much sleep over their and my conditions.

Last night my son Roy woke up with something that sounded horrible in both his coughing and breathing. I thought it might have been the croup, but am not so sure now as he doesn’t seem to be displaying quite so severe of symptoms. Tonight I put him down and am guessing that he may be fighting an earache. And oh how it makes my heart ache for him. My sons problems, be they small or big arrest my life. They keep me up at night. They keep me exhausted but alert during the day and they keep me praying through all of it.

I’ve been warned that my life with Roy will fly by. I suppose that this type of information would cause me to generate many memorable moments. The kind of moments that love is built on. There is a silver lining to my son’s sickness. It is this. I am reminded how much I love him. I feel how much I love him. His pain is my pain and I can feel how deep the etching is in the many places where he has inscribed his life on my heart.

I wonder how it has gotten to be this way. I don’t think it is because of the moments like when he crawled for the first time or even when he accidentally blabbered mom or dad, while changing his diaper. I think it is this way because of the hundreds of diapers we’ve changed together. Even the really smelly ones. Maybe especially because of the really smelly ones. I think it’s this way because of all the times we tried and failed to crawl. I think it is because of the nights like last night when I stayed up with my son for two hours monitoring his breathing. Those are the reasons I believe things have gotten to be the way they are.