Mar. 06, 2005 - 18:39MST

THE WONDERING JEW

The One We Are

There was a four year old boy, a one year old girl in our family when our third child was born in 1949. And as different from her sibs as they were from each other. In all we had five children, each uniquely different from the other.

An effervescent, flitting young lady, never still a minute, she was. In my mind I christened her Little Skimmer. She was a very mild tempered child from the beginning, easy to take care of and who happily lived with whatever was done in her behalf.

She was our baby daughter until age 15 when the caboose arrived.

From her earliest age she wanted to be a mother and a housekeeper. That is what she wanted for her life to be above all things. As she grew she perfected her routine learning and doing the things she would need later in life.

When our little caboose came along, daughter at age 15 became well trained in care of the baby because during that time Heather was working a job. It all worked out pretty well in the long run and baby caboose benefitted from the care of all her brothers and sisters.

But a few years before that she began to hurt in her hip. Doctors didn't seem to be able to figure it out in our local area and Heather found that the Shriner's were going to be in town and took her there. This lively, little bouncing sprite who was never still a minute was diagnosed with Perthe's disease. An ailment which attacks the white surface of the femur where it mates with the hip socket. After the destruction the disease has run its course. Then the problem is in keeping that leg still, no weight on it and no strain. If that can be done there is a good chance that the white covering will regrow and be as smooth as it ever was.

Heather and I were disconsolate knowing that our mercurial lady would be affected deeply. She patiently went through the fitting for a sling for her leg, crutches made to her size and listened to what the doctor instructed and explained why. So we left to take her home worried about how she would react in the long run.

That amazing child adapted to her new load in life, much like a soldier takes up his pack to move on. And she did, she moved on. Didn't slow her down a bit, she was as active as ever and didn't do any no-no stuff either. She, even wearing her sling and slinging her crutches could still outrun kids her age.

Each time the Shriner's came to town Heather would take her in so her progress could be monitored. The Shriner's were instrumental in getting her into a pre-school where children of many different limitations were going when she reached the appropriate age. There were kids with many different handicaps going there, muscular dystrophy, mild retardation, whatever ailment that would keep the kids apart from society was attended, taken care of and the children were helped and taught the necessary things they would need on into their life. Little Skimmer went into it full bore, taking part in everything she could and helping take care of the ones more limited than her. She never told us about that sort of thing, her teachers were the bearers of good news about her kindness and care for those worse off than she was. She would tell us about one or another of her classmates and how life was affecting them and how they were surmounting problems, but never told us a thing about what she was doing for them. At the time we were told about her reaction to life and others we thought, "What a wonderful Mother she will be."

I think it was third grade that she went into public school, her femur healed and smooth as it would ever get and lived as the other kids her age did. But she had a degree in caring for people that the others didn't. It showed in many ways not obvious to others.

Daughter was diligent in school, made average grades and once told us that most of the stuff didn't interest her but she paid attention and made decent grades for us. That she wanted to be a mother and raise a family.

When she was the appropriate age she married and began her family. First a boy, then another boy capped by a girl. Heather and Little Skimmer knew there was something wrong with the oldest boy and began to go to doctors. One doctor told them the only thing wrong with the boy was his mother and grandmother. Finally they took him to an opthalmoligist, he came zorching out of the examination room wanting to know why they hadn't taken good care of him. Something in the examination of his eyes indicated something wrong in his brain.

So then began the diagnostic trail. Finally a tumor was located in his skull. A surgeon was picked, the operation performed. I don't remember all of the details, but a shunt was put in from his brain to his abdomen to take care of the extra fluid. Only complication was that rather than having two veins to take care of the outflow from the brain, there was only one, to which the shunt was attached. A blockage occurred and he began to have a seizure, his mother and father tried to get the nurses to come in and see what was wrong. They tried to pooh pooh them, but finally came in and the screaming emergency team went to work.

He survived but has little use of his right arm, leg and foot.

He is a grown man now, who has, like his mother learned to cope with life with equanimity. All those years his mother has lived up to her ambition, ability to love and help. Her early experiences fitted her to do whatever was needed by her boy. Along with that she has raised the other two who are good, hardworking parents with that same philosophy of life she has.

I wonder if each of us has been through the mill and been trained to be just The One We Are . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

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