12.02.2009

Your Love Is Like A Knife That Cuts Both Ways

Well, here we are. It's 4:30 am on Wednesday and my femoral nerve block is starting to wear off. I slept until 10:15 after my surgery, stayed up until 1 am with my darling wife, and now find myself wide awake. Last night's Percocet totally knocked me out (one of the advantages, I suppose, of having a body unused to opiates) but it took about 2 1/2 hours to do it, so I'm not sure what that means for this morning. I took a pain pill about 20 minutes ago. Anyway, if my typing starts getting really odd you'll know why.

The surgery went fine, so I hear, and my surgeon was able to salvage my meniscus, which is good because it will stave off osteoarthritis a bit but bad because it means a lot longer recovery. Also, the fail rate for repair is relatively high (20-30%) so I may get another surgery next year. The future is full of question marks for me right now, but I'm grateful to be here and have faith that everything will work out for the best. I got a blessing on Sunday when I was pretty stressed about everything and my perspective has been in large part restored.

I was reading Brooke's post and it got me thinking about the direction our lives have taken since Caleb's diagnosis. It doesn't seem real even in retrospect, and back when it happened it felt like a dream. Our lives were put on hold and we were shot off onto this tangent which was unbelievably trying. We came out of it totally changed as people, matured in some ways and crippled in others. I wouldn't be where I am spiritually right now if I had not passed through it. I wouldn't have the view I do of life's fragility.

I guess that's where I'm going with this post. We have moments where we couldn't stand another minute with each other, and mostly are content to be with and love those around us. But when we have a brush with our own mortality - whether we ourselves are injured or those around us seem on the verge of slipping away - we hold on with iron grips to the relationships we hold dear. I know that's how it's meant to be, because we are establishing bonds of love which are intended to last through the eternities. We join a mortal family, we join in marriage, and we have children join with us.

When we go through trying times with our loved ones, it is so easy to get caught up in the little details and the drama and the storm of emotions. It's really hard in the moment to have an eternal perspective, at least for me. When I go to the temple or listen to conference or have a good study session I get glimpses of the Plan that helps it all make sense, and that helps me when the emotional burdens come. When we heard the results of Caleb's initial CT, it felt like the world was crashing down around me. I was terrified. The subsequent months before he passed away, however, taught me a lot. I was brought closer to my Heavenly Father than I ever had been before. Our family motto, Heaven Begins at Home, was never more true. I know that the sealing ties that bind us together can never be broken. After Caleb died, it was like he was just through a little door, that any moment I would see him again. I still feel he is close, and I think my love for my other children is deeper because of it.

One of the phrases which comes to my mind most often is from President Monson: "At the end of this life, what will matter most is who we have loved, and who has loved us." That's the real reason for our lives. That's why we are here. The Holy Ghost guides us to love eternally. I love all you guys and I am excited to be with you all after we pass on (please, though, don't anyone hurry to get there).

The title of this post was initially supposed to reflect the fact that I just had surgery, but I suppose it's fitting.

5 comments:

catherine said...

First of all, I'm glad things seemed to have gone well in the surgery. Hoping for a speedy recovery for you.

This turned out to be a very sweet post. I've often been thankful for the way my trials have refined me but wished that refinement could have come about in some way other than through suffering. All part of the Plan I suppose.

It's hard to know what to say to bring words of comfort to someone who has lost someone (a child more than anyone else, I think, especially). Know that our thoughts and prayers are with you and Alison.

Jess said...

What a nice post. I think loosing Caleb changed how our entire family sees the eternal perspective. Without the gospel, several of us would have been completely inconsolable and would have not survived when Caleb passed away.

Diane said...

Beautiful post Jordan. What I went through as I watched your family go through that very trying time changed me fundamentally as a person. I have become much more compassionate and I hope found ways to help others besides the sometimes trite 'let me know if I can do anything". SOO grateful for the Atonement and what we know of the Lord's plan for us.

Anaelay said...

Going to the festival of trees today and then reading your post have brought the tears flowing down my face. Your family never ceases to amaze me. Thank you for sharing.

TheQueen@TerrorsInTiaras said...

Lovely post. I think of you and sweet Caleb every year at this time. I only met him once, at Shannon and Michael's for our annual family reunion, so it really is hard to imagine that he would have my thoughts so much this time of year. I do think Heavenly Father knows what He is doing with each of our trials, and those of our families, for that matter. Families are so much a part of that Eternal Plan, and I am so glad they are! Best wishes for a speedy recovery--for yours and Allison's sakes.:)