Elephant in the Room

Elephant in the Room


Elephant in the Room: December, 2015

A year ago I took a leap and began sharing my heart. This was my first story.

….Satire meets truth, faith meets irony, despair meets joy, and this over educated debutante escapes the laundry and finds true meaning. Again, wit meets stereotype. Guilt and shame will not overpower my need for personal transparency and the freedom that comes with it. Without mystery, we leave nothing to the imagination and offer up a white flag that comes in the form of brutal honesty, immeasurable seamless faith and hope, a sea of tears from both heartache and silly joy.

I think this blog has been stirring in my heart for the past 20 years, before blog was in Webster’s (the original Wikipedia dictionary). However, it was not until my latest trial that I have felt ready to air my laundry. That laundry is my truth, heartache and sorrow, deep tragedy, hopefulness, and love. Truth that is so bright and clean and by being in the open, will hopefully add something of value to the people that encounter it.

Amos. The loaded questions, the vague statements, the worried glances, the long silences, they incited fear in me and I feared if I cried, I may never stop. The peace and grace that anoints me can only be a miracle, though it remains the elephant in the room.

Amos. My latest trial and perhaps, my loveliest. He may not catch up…. It is a concern that his receptive language is delayed….at some point without continued progress, he may not be eligible for any more speech visits. We just don’t know. You’ll have to wait. What can he do? Is this ALL he does? Does he sit up? Does he roll over? Progress of a four month old. The walls are closing in on me. The grief has welled up and I can’t breathe.

It’s not cancer. It’s not cancer. It’s not cancer. Of course, one sadness always meets another doesn’t it? They link up like old paper clips, dangling precipitously loose but joined nevertheless. I close my eyes and imagine my adored older brother Adam. The nineteen year old college boy with a bright future. It was cancer. In a moment, my world was gone and my life was filled with dark, despair, and grief. I didn’t let death’s sting steal my joy though and life continued.

The Adrian that lost her brother chose the right kind of husband, developed a penchant for educational success, a need to pass on her brother’s wonderful sense of humor, and to be the kind of parent that had molded characteristics that I found perfect.

Back to my Amos. The peace and grace that anoints me can only be a miracle, though the fears swirling around my precious son remain the elephant in the room……

A year has gone by now and that elephant is far away now, unlikely to ever return. Greener pastures beckoned him and my own have transformed me. To write my truth has been my most wonderful paperclip. I imagine the metal bent messily into a shape that, if you look hard enough, is a heart perfect in its’ imperfection.

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