Trying in 2014--Cracking Under Pressure, Holding Ourselves Together

A sense of dread sunk in for much of the fall. After my mom’s death and Rowena’s cancer, after the car troubles, money worries and physical aches and pains, what would the next test be? Because surely it was coming.

The problems combined to form a heavy weight pressing down on me and our entire family. Cracks surfaced in our psyches and our bodies. Julius experienced a series of ankle sprains in the fall—the first time he’d complained of extended joint difficulties. Could these have had something to do with the overall tension? I, meanwhile, am pretty certain that the stress in the rest of my life contributed to a gloomy view of my health. That some of my back, knee and foot ailments had a psychosomatic component—at times I could feel my back pain intensifying as I confronted an ill-behaving kid or fretted about a job in the new year. Body discomfort as barometer of overall wellbeing.

And collectively, Julius, Skyla, Rowena and I grew shorter-tempered. We knew this was a time to pull together and treat Rowena especially with greater tenderness. But conflicts as minor as dinner table manner slips could explode into one or more of us storming out of the kitchen.

A low point came December 19^th, the Friday before the school winter holiday. Rowena was still recovering from her first chemo treatment, so I drove with her to pick Skyla up from school. Grattan Elementary was festive, but my mood grew foul quickly when I couldn’t find Skyla. It was raining and we were eager to give her a ride in the car so she didn’t have to get wet en route to catch a nearby bus—which she usually took home.

Even though I hopped out of the car and arrived on the school yard right at dismissal time, I didn’t see Skyla among the throngs of happy kids. Her classroom was empty when I tried to find her there. And she wasn’t answering her phone—something she normally was sure to do just after school.

I made small talk about holiday plans with a few parents and teachers as I looked for our nine-year daughter. But my fears and frustration were growing larger, my reservoirs of resilience draining by the minute. I was angry at Skyla for not taking the path she normally did through the school yard, and for not answering her phone or charging it in the first place.  I started imagining the nightmare of Skyla being abducted on her way to the bus stop—even though I knew the odds of that were miniscule.

I returned to the car to tell Rowena we should head to Skyla’s bus stop. Amid the school pick-up congestion, Rowena drove us very close to a parked car and our side-view mirror brushed against the other car’s mirror. I have a long-running concern that Rowena takes too many risks. Normally, I recognize pretty quickly that I’m just being paranoid: Rowena can be a daredevil, but I can be “safety-first” to a fault. On this particular Friday afternoon, however, in the wake of the Skyla anxiety, in the wake of months of sadness, bad news and mounting worries, the minor scrape triggered a major explosion.

“You hit that car!” I yelled. And I twisted concern about Rowena’s cancer state into a cruel attack. “I can’t believe it. You cannot drive right now.”

“Calm down, Ed. I can handle it,” Rowena responded.

“Clearly you can’t!” I yelled back.

Rowena began to cry. Now we both felt overwhelmed.

We drove to Skyla’s bus stop, and didn’t find her there. So we proceeded home, hoping and expecting that she had gotten on the bus for the 20-minute ride home. On the way back to our neighborhood, my anger and panic were already ebbing into regret and empathy. And there was Skyla as we walked in the door. “Little lady!” I called to her. Rowena and I embraced her at the same time, surrounding her in a hug. “We love you soooo much,” I said, a term of endearment I get from my dad.

Skyla and I have butted heads over the past year, as she has grown more assertive and I have struggled to adjust to her emerging tween-ness. But at that reunion moment I felt nothing but tenderness for her. She seemed surprised and a bit bewildered by our sudden circle of affection. But she let us give her a big long squeeze.

We stood there holding ourselves together. As if lashed to some imagined mast in the middle of our family. With lengths of love strong enough to handle what 2014 was throwing at us so far.