Some thoughts

Not much news this morning. Waiting for Byron to recover from the shunt surgery and adding medicines to get the seizures under control. For those asking, the shunt is a permanent addition to Byron's head. It drains the fluid from the brain into his stomach.  Sometimes they need to be adjusted or even replaced. They adjusted it this morning with a powerful magnet through the skin. 

Today, one of my favorite writers/artists Suleika Jaouad, who has wrestled with leukemia most of her life said this.  She was reflecting on her year:

"When you learn for the third time you have cancer, it's easy to feel hopeless. ... even in the hardest moments, there were so many joys. That life is not a monolith. That our forever work is to learn to hold the brutal and beautiful in the same palm."

That our forever work is to learn to hold the brutal and beautiful in the same palm

Three times jumped out at as we are in the hospital with Byron for his third brain surgery, his third bout with intractable seizures.  But it was this last line that really struck me.  I didn't plan to spend this much time in hospitals.  This much time ruminating on life altering medical decisions.  This much time watching my son go through multiple painful surgeries and endure terrible seizures. But all of us have grown in the process.  All of us have learned how strong we are.  How much we love each other and are loved.  And we have deeply experienced the mysterious work of Grace and Blessings that surround us and hold us.   

While I would not wish these experiences on any family, there is a quiet arresting beauty about the hospital in the late evening.  The focused meditative work of the night nurses making their rounds.  The bright and hopeful faces of the pediatric specialists.  I have been changed by all this.  More compassionate.  More surrendered.  More at ease with the twists and turns of life.