and how they are

     I just got off the phone with my sister.  She asked me how I was doing.  Fine. I said.  She wants to know if I am getting out; if life is getting back to "normal".  Yes and no.  The answer I give confused even me. 
     We have a friend who is a massage therapist.  Used to be, Jarrad would go see her.  Now, she comes to see him.  She came to the hospital to be with me - us -  when IT happened.  She is a good friend.  When she came to work on Jarrad, she asked me how my back was.  Fine, I say.  She shoots me a look.  I know that look.  I am in the process of perfecting my own towards my kids.  It is the "Really, are you sure you want to go with that story?" look. 
     I am fine.  Ok.  Good.

     I can walk.  I can hop into the car and drive to where ever without worrying about meds, cathing, a 30 lb wheel chair that I have to transfer in and out of.  Spasms don't throw me. I can actually drive the car as opposed to being dependent on someone else to drive it.
     So I am fine.

     Saturday, we all loaded up and went to a pumpkin farm.  Jarrad sat in the sun and I took the kids inside the event.  A corn bin, a hay maze, followed by a hay ride and then picking out pumpkins.  Last year, we went and Jarrad walked in.  He watched one kid and I watched the other.  This year, I depended on a good friend for help.  Last year, he took each kid and scoured the field for perfect pumpkins.  This year, I carried 2 out to the car, with Sam saying "cawry me, cawry me" the whole way.
    I see what was, what I think should be, and what is.  Last year, what I had assumed this year would be like, and what this year is.  This triple vision has brought me to my knees sometimes.  I deal with it by trying not to think about last year - pushing it away, not looking at pictures.  Ignoring the past.  That is not good because I can't remember good times without hurt.  Even now, pictures pop into my head as I write this and I sit here crying.  I try not to think about plans we had made - the what I assumed would be.  Like this weekend, we should be packing to go to Great Wolf Lodge.  We had decided that instead of gifts, we would do things for birthdays (and a small gift - come on, what is a birthday without one?),  Emma wanted to go to GWL for her birthday.  That is not happening and it hurts.

    It hurts when I hear Emma say to Sam that we can't go this year but when Daddy's legs heal, we can go next year.  It hurts when I think that Sam will never remember Daddy carrying him and the inner tube up the flight of steps to go down the large water slide.  It hurts when I think that Jarrad can't go down the large slide again.  Thinking, remembering, just hurts.
     I used to scrapbook.  I think that this will be the lost year. 
     I have never understood living in the now before.  It is this moment where there is no past and no future to think about.  I make small plans - like instead of GWL, I am taking Emma and her BFF out to dinner and then we are going to Target or Walmart to create a wish list for Christmas.  I am going to let them use scanners!  They are going to have a ball!  And it is cheap!  And has the added bonus of being able to send to grandparents.  (Disclaimer - got the idea from a friend - as most of my really good ideas come from this absolutely fabulous group of friends that I have.)
    This is why my answer to my sister is confusing.  On a given moment, if my vision is narrowed, I will be fine.  I went to book club this past weekend.  I bought a new purse.  I don't know what to do with myself when Jarrad isn't here so I feel a little lost.  I get about 6 hours of  sleep every night.  Friends come over on Sundays for food and fellowship.  I take Emma to dance on Mondays and spend the 45 minutes waiting reading a book and enjoying a treat from whatever fast food establishment I choose (usually McD's). I try not to think to much because then I am not so fine.