She wanted
to have a party for her fiftieth birthday.
We joined
her at the trailer that weekend.
The morning
of her party,
She
accidentally stepped off the deck.
She broke
both her knees.
What?
I saw her
step down.
It was non-climatic.
But, it
hurt.
I saw the
pain in her face.
Her right
knee required surgery.
She wore a
brace on the left.
She was
unable to walk.
She could
not get into a vehicle.
No weight
bearing allowed for a minimum of ten weeks.
She could
not come home.
She could not come home.
She spent
the entire summer in the hospital.
THE.
ENTIRE. SUMMER.
The doctors
diagnosed osteoporosis.
A side
effect of the steroids she had been
taking to treat her Crohns disease.
STEROIDS.
This is the
same medication that had almost killed her four years prior.
Now, it had
caused her bones to be so brittle she broke both her knees.
She was
fifty years old.
I was
afraid.
How much can
she take?
I was afraid
she would just...snap!
Our brains
can only deal with so much.
She had
already lost her beloved child.
Now this?
Would it
ever end for her?
I knew I
needed to help her stay positive.
I visited
her every day.
I took her
food.
I kept her
company.
She and I
planned our Nana’s one hundredth birthday party.
She
travelled via a wheelchair accessible bus.
I took her
for walks just to get her outside.
I pushed her
to restaurants.
She was
desperate to leave the ward.
So much so,
she went to a restaurant with her broken legs out in front of her and her
catheter bag hanging below her.
Somehow, she
stayed sane.
She healed.
She could
walk again.
She was able
to return to her home.
The Doctors
gave her the green light to go back to work.
She was so
happy.
I was amazed
at her resiliency.
She was
elated to be getting her life back.
Two days,
before returning to work...
Her boss came to HER home...
And...fired her.
They had
made her position redundant.
She cried
and cried and cried.
She was
inconsolable.
She loved
her job.
She loved
her clients.
They...
Zapped her
self-confidence.
Crushed her
faith.
Broke her
heart.
Hurt her
feelings.
Squished,
right out of her, the only reason she had left to get out of bed every morning.
They did not
care about her at all.
She was
humiliated because she believed they did.
Her recovery
focus was all about getting back to work.
She had worked
so hard.
She was out of work for an entire year.
She applied
for hundreds of jobs.
She took
more college courses.
The
depression snuck in quietly, but, inevitably.
I became enraged
as I saw her losing the battle.
‘No way man!’
‘ No way.’
I could not let this company take any more from her.
She had survived so much already.
HER DAUGHTER DIED!
HER. DAUGHTER. DIED.
I needed to
do something.
I had to
push her...hard.
I was
scared.
I wasn’t
sure if it would work and I wasn’t sure if it was right.
I called her
lazy.
I bossed
her.
I was
cold.
I was not
empathetic.
I was
pushy.
She was mad...
so mad.
Then she was
sad......so sad.
She was
broken.
I had broke
her.
What had I
done?
Silence.
Nothing.
No contact.
It was
deafening.
She let me
persuade her that day.
She found
even more strength somehow.
She
prevailed.
Physically
she had healed.
Mentally and
emotionally.....she was born again.
She became employed.
She felt
valued and respected.
Her days had
purpose once again.
She said she
owed me.
She said she
couldn’t have done it without me.
We couldn’t have done any of it without one
another.
We both knew that.
So, we never had to say it.
Not once.
