Stubbornness, Family and Perseverance

Just after writing my last post about not using my temporary handicapped tag, I was having a particularly painful day.  However, I was determined that I was going to do the grocery shopping.  I had only done this once since July, and I was resolute in my objective to go by myself.  I was so discouraged having my husband do all of my household duties.  My jobs!  Don’t get me wrong, I am very thankful he has helped me so much, but after months of not being CEO of our household I am starting to feel I have no purpose.  I just can’t contribute like I want.  My husband pleaded with me not to go.  He could tell I was not feeling my best, but my stubbornness reared its head.  He was not going to tell me I could not go!

I drove to the store, and low and behold, I had to use my tag.  I knew I had to save my energy for the store.  I started my quest for all of our needed items.  That day it seemed we were out of everything including big heavy items.  As I started going down isle after isle I could feel the pain kicking in even more.  I was getting slower and slower.  I somehow retrieved everything and proceeded to the checkout.  I pulled my cart in and attempted to unload my items.  I couldn’t do it.  My arms were completely wiped out.  The bagger finally realized I was having difficulty and finished the task and helped me out to the car.  I could not believe the amount of pain I was in.  I did not feel this way the last time I went grocery shopping by myself.   I had put myself in a situation in which I could not turn back.  Thanks goodness for the close parking space, but I still had to drive myself home.  My husband fortunately was home.   He unloaded and put all the groceries away while I sat there in tears.   I was so frustrated that an undertaking I should be able to do, was so difficult for me.  I decided to go lie down for “just a minute”.   I woke 4 hours later.  

It was not a good way to start the week; I had no idea what my week would have in store for me.    I knew my husband was going to be out of town; my daughter had a basketball game, and my son a wrestling match.  Both of which I really wanted to attend.  I could have gotten someone else to drive my daughter to her game, but I had already missed her first one.  She has been unable to play for so many years because of her epilepsy, and I wanted to be there.  She had a great game.  There were only 7 players and 1 got injured during the game, so she had to stay on the court almost the entire game.  Her stubbornness would not let her sit down, even when she was exhausted.  They lost the game, but it was close.  She was smiling ear to ear, even after getting knocked down a couple of time.  “Well, I know one thing for sure,” she said getting into the car.  “I definitely played better this game.  My first game, I did not know what the heck I was doing!”  I also survived her game.  I am not going to lie, it was not easy.  I dearly paid for it later with needing pain meds.  Sitting for 2 hours in bleachers definitely took its toll.

My son had his wrestling match Saturday.  I was tired from the week, but I was determined to go.  Because of an ankle injury on the 3^rd practice, he had seen matches between his own team mates, but was able to participate very little.  Saturday he was the very first wrestler in the very first match.  I was so nervous for him.  He had never even been to a tournament before, and as mentioned earlier, had not had much practice.  His opponent flipped him up in the air as if he weighed nothing and immediately pinned him.  This happened 4 consecutive times, making for a very short match.  He had 3 more matches to go.  His elbow was injured the very first flip into the air, but he too was stubborn.  He was determined to finish the other 3.  I was beginning to see a family trend here.   The next 2 matches he got better, but was equally beaten.   My pain and fatigue was starting, and we had to leave before his last match.  Darn if he did not do well.  He still lost, but by only 1 point!  He was pretty sore after his tournament.   When asked if he still liked wrestling, was he glad he joined the team, he replied, “Of course!  I really like it.” 

 

That night, my son was on one couch with ice bags and ace wraps, and I was on the other; I think moaning more than he was.  I felt like I had been the one flipped in the air 4 consecutive times.  I could barely move my arms and legs.  They would freeze when I would try to move.  My brain knew I want them to move, but the connection was slow, and they wouldn’t budge. They eventually did, but it was a much delayed response.  The electrical currents I sometimes feel coursing through my body were running rampant.  It was so worth it though. 

I had a lot of physical challenges this week that definitely challenged my pain level, but I also had emotional challenges as well.  My grandmother, of almost 100 years of age, passed away.  A widow at a very early age, she raised 2 children on a school teacher’s salary.   She was very active in Habitat for Humanity, a deaconess in the United Methodist church, taught Sunday School for years, taught prisoners to read, won multiple awards for her contributions to humanity, and was very politically active.  She could win any political argument hands down because of her stubbornness.   Nothing and no one could make her back down from her beliefs, not even her own family.  She taught me great lessons, give often; and live generously and graciously towards others. 

I contemplated long and hard about attending her funeral.  I knew I could not travel for 8 hours, attend a funeral, family activities, and then return home.  I wanted to attend so badly, but my body just was not well enough yet.   I knew a trip like that could tremendously set me back.  I hate that I could not say my goodbyes to her.  She loved me, made me clothes, fed me during college (including many of my friends), and even let me live with her for a short while.  How could I not go and say goodbye to her.  I still am wrestling with my decision.  

As I write and review my past week, I realize exactly where I and my children get our stubbornness- my grandmother.  However, it is not stubbornness after all.  It is perseverance.   She persevered through multiple hardships in her life to live 99 wonderful years.  My daughter has persevered through epilepsy to now play basketball, get knocked down multiple times, and continue playing despite exhaustion.  My son perseveres through an ankle and elbow injury, to only be completely beaten in his wrestling matches.  Yet, he gets back up and does it again.   I am determined to persevere through this damage which Levaquin has left me.  What a great legacy to leave your family.  My grandmother’s perseverance resonates through all of us.
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Perseverance- 

1.  steady persistence in a course of action, a purpose, a state, etc., esp. in spite of difficulties, obstacles, or discouragement.

2.  (Theology) . continuance in a state of grace to the end, leading to eternal salvation.