It’s been awhile since I’ve been here. The first post I started to write but never finished was on Dec. 9. There have been two others since then. Maybe this one will be the one.
It’s not like I haven’t had anything to say, in fact that was the problem in at least one of those unfinished posts. It opened like a book, read like an encyclopedia and I could never find the end…it was always skipping off ahead of me, just around the next thing I wanted to say. But that’s not the point today, I’m breaking free of those old ghosts and leaving them behind. It’s time to just get something written.
They say misery is the best muse, and that all the best authors have tortured souls. To a certain extent, this is a thought that I very much agree with as I often do my best writing while in some kind of pain. In the past, this has always been some sort of heartache or emotional downturn and writing gave me the chance to sort out my thoughts and emotions and kept me focused on allowing myself to be me. Honesty with the page, and all that. From a certain perspective, my absence here lately could be considered a very good thing. Things have been going well, and the necessity to put words down has decreased. There have been highlights that I’ve wanted to share but without the urgency of the early days, a busy schedule can easily keep those posts on the back burner.
Things are much different these days than those of the Intubation Era. With more freedom in handling her – and especially now the freedom of the private room, we can spend much more time with her. Holding, changing, dressing, and playing with, have all replaced “sit and watch her grow in the solarium”. Then when we get home, there’s been less “decompression” required. We’re not as shell-shocked as the early days, and can slip back into regular life a little easier. And for me, the writing therapy isn’t as much a necessity lately, as my outlets are expanding back into the “normal stress relief” tactics of my pre-Nyana days, interwebbing and videogames.
Things have been going very well with Little Princess overall, lately. Today, she turns four months old (five weeks corrected) and we’re quite pleased with how she’s doing. She’s a roly-poly bundle of awesome (9.5 lbs) and is generally a very happy little baby. She’s often bright-eyed and curious and loves her time with her favourite Big People. Little does she know, but it looks like she’ll be going back to high-flow in a few days and I’m sure she will love that. Not everything is always perfect, there have been some downs lately for sure but nothing that is gravely serious. Overall she’s doing well and we are two very proud parents.
So with all this good news and no sign of that previously mentioned writer’s pain, what brings me to the page today? What is it that finally broke my absence here and brought me out of my funk? Well, it truly is a pain that brings me here this afternoon and ensures that I make time for the words. It’s a pain located in the right side of my lower jaw. An infected root canal, swollen out to make me look like a baseball player with some chew. It’s forced me into two consecutive sick days and not only given me the time to finish this post, but also allowed me to do something I normally would have completely missed.
Whether you believe in God, the Universe, or Fate (or something else), I’m sure you can agree with me that life often works in strange and mysterious ways. Yesterday was a fine example. If my swelling had not flared up that morning and forced me to go home for the day, I would have still been at work for yesterday’s memorial service at the hospital for Neema. Instead, I was at home popping T1’s and Advils like they were Hallowe’en candies, trying to sit still enough to stop any extraneous pressure from finding its way to my tooth when Karen’s text came in, telling me there was to be a small service at 5pm that evening. Instead of being at work, me and my swollen jaw were able to go to the beautiful little service in the hospital chapel and remember Neema with her amazing parents, and offer them our love and support. Being able to be there for them was something I am exceedingly grateful for, and Neema’s memory will be kept alive in us for a very long time.
After the service, Neema’s mother dropped by Nyana’s room for a quick chat where she asked us to thank you, Nyana’s Army, for all of your prayers and positive wishes for her precious babygirl. So, on behalf of Neema’s Mom and Dad, we wish to thank you all from the bottom of our hearts for every moment that each of you took out of your days to spare a thought for an absolute stranger. For every prayer, for every hope, for every slice of positive energy that you directed at her and sent with your soul, we thank you.
May their beautiful Kenyan Princess rest in peace, in a place with fresh air and sunshine.