It was life changing. It was life altering. If was life - but it wasn't life. It was something different, and it forever would determine the path, not because it was automatic, but because I made a conscious decision to let it.
The previous months, and even years, had been riddled with pain that I tolerated for far too long. I had been desperately trying to win the approval of my husband's family. The downfall began the second I met them. One brother exclaimed to his sister "I never liked her." So from the very beginning, I never stood a chance. I have been with my husband for 8 years. It seemed at certain points that this would improve, but only after I confronted the situation. For some reason, the family members had no problem disparaging my character or putting me down in front of strangers or each other; but when I would confront them, they felt extremely uncomfortable and unable to admit that this was something they had done. It seemed at certain points that some were trying, and then something would happen where one or both of the family members who were the main culprits would share information with another person that was grossly untrue, and terribly hurtful. When my husband proposed to me, I thought maybe this would change things. It didn't. It actually made things worse. I struggled with trying to figure out if I should have a big wedding and invite them, but money was tight. This was also a second wedding for me and my husband. Both of us had experienced really big first weddings and we just wanted our second wedding to be small. We decided to invite our parents and our kids, and then maybe have a reception later on. When I reached out to my husband's family, one brother totally took offense to how we were planning to get married, and accused me of purposely leaving them out of the mix. Looking back, it seemed a little strange that they were angry about not being invited to something that they had hoped had never happened in the first place.
The most painful part of this was what happened late last year. I had the flu; a fever of 103.2. It was December 22, 2019 and I was trying desperately to not have this ailment affect my type 1 diabetes. At 8:33pm, my son called me. The second I saw his phone number, I knew something was wrong. When I picked up, I heard a lot of commotion, and my son telling me that something horrible had happened. He told me that the van he was traveling in with 6 of his friends had been t-boned by a semi. He explained that the van was lifted up and flipped over 4 times and landed. He said that his friends were hurt very badly, but that he was okay. I told him to make sure that he got to a hospital as soon as possible to make doubly sure that he was fine. He told me he would, and told me that he loved me and was so grateful and thankful to be alive. I hung up the phone and became hysterical.
At this point, I only knew that my son was talking to me, but I didn't know the extent of his injuries. He was two and a half hours away, and I was struggling with how I was going to deal with what I would see when I got there. I spoke to several parents as I drove toward the hospital and their kids were in horrible, horrific shape. Skull fractures, brain bleeds, crushed legs, crushed foot, broken sternum, broken femurs, removed spleen, and far more....one was in a coma. It made no sense to me that my son would be okay after hearing all of this.
When I got to the hospital, my son was there with a neck brace. His clothing had been torn off by the paramedics. I didn't see any of the other kids there, and didn't notice any other cars parked outside of the Emergency room in this little town. I started crying...sobbing really as I was sweating, sick as a dog with my fever rising.
The doctor walked in and said "Well, we've done every test known to man. Your son has no broken bones, and no internal injuries. Besides a sprained finger and an abrasion on his shoulder, he is perfectly fine." I looked at her with a blank stare.
For two days, my son and I stayed to help locate the other boys and make sure that they were okay. I felt like I cried non stop. I felt like I didn't want to let my son ever drive again. I felt like I had to find an apartment near the college where he was going to so I could surveillance him 24/7. I just knew the magnitude of what losing him would have done. You think you know until you get that close. And then you really know.
My first night there, my father in law called me. I had inadvertently called him while trying to reach my own dad the night before. He was merely returning my call. I poured my heart and soul out to him. I cried, I sobbed, I shared my deepest fears with him. I couldn't stop crying. I was really, really looking for some support from anyone who would give it to me, and I truly thought that with him knowing what had happened that he would give it to me.
I was wrong. Neither he nor anyone from his family called to check on me. None of them asked my husband at their holiday gathering how I was doing, or how Keaton was doing. None of them tried to see if they could offer any emotional assistance of any kind. You see, even during the time frame that they were treating me so badly, I was there when one brother lost his job and I found an opening at a place that fit his profile. I sent a card to my sister in law when I found out she was taking care of her ailing mother. Instead of texting me to say "thank you", she had to ask my husband to tell me. I sent a prayer booklet to my father in law when he was going through an extremely tough time after losing his wife. Not getting anything back for those things didn't really bother me - I don't do things for pay back. But THIS....this was awful, because I knew they were all parents. The only sense it made was they must hate me an awful lot to not want to be there for me at this time.
Then...on Christmas Eve...before my husband left to come home, after I had driven back from the accident with my son, They took a family photo, without me. Never mentioning what happened to my son, or that I even existed. This, out of anything, was the most hurtful thing anyone had ever done because now it was in front of me; I'm not a part of this family. Not just because I walked away, but because THEY don't want me to be, by any measure. They NEVER wanted me to be part of their family. They didn't care, after all I had been through, that taking this photo would hurt me this badly.
Since this time, a lot has happened. A mass was found on my ovary that they are still trying to watch to make sure it's not cancer; I had a mammogram that has escalated to me needing to have a surgical biopsy, because atypical cells were found in 3 procedures that were done. Basically, it's not a matter of IF I will get breast cancer, it is WHEN. These challenges manifested after my son's accident, and for a little bit, I let the pain of that photo get to me shortly thereafter, until one thing happened with my son.
A week after his accident, we had dinner. It was almost as if the Universe had planned it perfectly. We went to a restaurant that was empty. We had so much to catch up on. My son was talking about college, his grades, what he wanted to do with his life, what life meant to him. We laughed a lot, and talked about his dreams. For about a minute, all I could hear was his voice. But I looked at him and asked myself "How much time have I truly spent prioritizing this man in my life? How much have I really REALLY listened to him, where I'm not looking at emails from work, or checking on a status of something that doesn't matter, or.....
Or worrying about people, not just my husband's family, but people...who haven't reached out, who don't know you, who have put you down, who spend time making situations worse rather than being productive in rectifying them....and wondering why they either hate you so much, or dislike you to the point of making you insignificant, event though you have been in their lives during moments that truly mattered to them? Why have I wasted my time in those situations, when all of the love, acceptance, care, support, humbleness, beauty has been sitting in front of you for 18 years?" I realized at that moment that I had wasted too much time trying to keep doors open that no one was going to walk through. I was standing there, while the people who really mattered were trying to grab my hand and take me to other rooms where I was loved and accepted. Where I would be held accountable, but not judged. Where I would be led down a path of healing, and not hurt. I made a decision at that moment never again. I took my son's hand and I have never let go. It's only led to more loving hands, and more "never letting go's".
What has happened with this is even in dealing with what is going on with my ovary, and with my potential breast cancer; with my diabetes, with all of the changes is yes, life has hit me hard...but I have my son. I have him. There is no fear in obtaining things in life that we didn't ask for, that sometimes are a part of life. But there is complete fear in knowing that my life could have been without my son. All the other stuff I can handle. Prioritizing HIM is not just a process - it is like making a conscious decision to not take my insulin for my diabetes; without it, I am no more.
I have since let go of my husband's family and all things related to any situation that is unhealthy and abusive and anything other than that which is loving and supportive. I sleep better at night. I feel better in the mornings. I don't cry as much (only when I'm happy:), and I don't spend as much time trying to figure out why. I love a lot more - my husband, my son, my family, my friends....life. I just appreciate it all.
Priorities are VITAL. If you are spending your time prioritizing things that are not vital, then something is missing.
I hope that you don't ever have to be in a situation like I was that could have potentially left me without that which deserved my prioritization more than anything else I have ever had. I don't want to ever have to learn that lesson again.
Thank you to all of my friends and family for being here for me during this life changing time:) I love you all:)
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