Friday, April 20, 2018

"Watch over us when my hands are tired"

We celebrated Benton's eighth birthday recently. Jordan and I have been parents for eight years! What a blur. We haven't lost or permanently broken a child yet. I think we are doing pretty well for ourselves. We spent his birthday weekend making him feel special. He was taken to the movies, got to eat his favorite meal (multiple hot dogs), had cake/ice cream with his friends, got miscellaneous presents and went to the science museum in Portland. We celebrated at every turn. I mainly just held him lots and said: "holy crap you are eight". Each day he is getting more lanky and stanky. It is getting harder to scoop him up and just hold onto him (mainly because he never stops moving).

This was my first birthday I was completely in charge of. Birthdays are a Jordan thing. I usually just take my orders. I pick up the cake and make lightsabers out of pool noodles. Whatever fancy thing she dreams up (thanks Pinterest). So hopefully I did a good job with Benton's birthday. Parker will be slightly more critical in June. If I'm being honest I can't ever remember if Parker's birthday is on June 23rd or 26th. I've got some work to do!

Jordan was right in there for the birthday celebration though and sure didn't miss her serving of cake. Jordan is in a bit of a lull right now. She isn't showing any new symptoms. Her energy levels are still bad. Trips out of the house are an all-out team effort. Everything is slow moving and her speech is holding up for a few hours in the morning before it just gets rough. Hospice is in the house regularly monitoring vitals and just checking in. We are thankful for the lull. We will hold onto the lull for as long as we can.

Throughout this whole process, our children have been along for the ride. One of the things Jordan and I have always strived for with our children is honesty. So it was natural for us to tell our children just a few days after we found out about Jordan's diagnosis last June. Even when our heads were absolutely swimming we thought it was important to tell them. We have always counted them as an equal part of our family. I think our transparency has deepened our children's trust in us and also allowed them to have a fighting chance at handling all that is going on.

Things got a bit tricky though after our last round of news. Suddenly we were tasked with telling our children not only that Jordan's tumor was growing but that it would eventually take her life. The finality of this and the concept of time are something that are so fluid to our children. A vague pie in the sky idea that doesn't make much sense. Parker still asks me almost every Friday if she has school the next day. So how do you tell two beautiful little children that their mother is dying?

The task fell to me. That would have been a Jordan thing not too long ago. Jordan shared the initial news with the kids in our backyard. I held Jordan's hand and stared at the fire fighting back tears. I had no words. Ten short months later I was prepping for the day. I met with our children's therapist, I took the day off of work and I made sure the kids got to bed early so that they would be well rested.

I have told so many others the news and I was able to hold it together fairly well for them. The thought of looking my children in the eye and delivering this news just caused my whole body to tense up though. On my run that morning I couldn't get past the first sentence in my head. I cried through my shower and skipped breakfast. I got back in bed and waited for everyone to wake up. Parker uncharacteristically got up early. She climbed into the bed with me and I held my daughter close. She let me. In that moment I closed my eyes, smelled her hair and was so thankful for all the joy she brings to our home every single day. I hoped with everything in me that this news wouldn't eventually rob her of that joy. Benton eventually joined us in bed and after a few minutes, all the stirring around from the mattress on the floor woke Jordan as well.

We had the talk. I stuck to my talking points, I kept it brief and we all wept. After a few minutes, I took a deep breath and asked: "who wants breakfast?". The kids both chimed in, wiped their tears from their eyes and we carried on. We did what has become the Hassell way. Fall apart, put yourself back together, rinse and repeat. It is engrained in our beings at this point.

Not one single time have we told our children that everything was going to be ok. We have avoided telling them that life would be normal again and that this would all go away. We simply didn't know that. We instead have chosen the narrow, steep, winding and rocky path of honesty.

-Brack

Always a smile on Jordan's face whenever she sees the kiddos.

Packing out Timberline Lodge for a little lunch.
I think we know where Parker gets her smile from.
The whole Stanley gang together in Parkdale.
Jordan's brother is such a pretty pretty princess.
Carb loading on his eighth birthday.
A little casual wine tasting.
Don't Step In It! A family game centered around playdough poop.
Lots of friends pouring in from the south!
Jordan and her grandfather.

4 comments:

  1. Brack, there are so many emotions that I feel when I read what you share. I am unable to put it all into words. Thank you for allowing us to see glimpses of your journey up the steep, narrow and rocky path. My prayers are with you all. Love, LLB

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  2. Hot dogs, of course! 😂

    You are both wonderful parents, and your kids rock!

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  3. Benton 8 - wow?! Your writing and your journey is gut wrenching and heart felt. We love y’all.

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