Regrets and Road Trips

I was on social media last night before we fell asleep and accidentally clicked on a video reel about someone's fitness journey. At the end, the girl said, "Where you are now was once a dream of your past self." From Jason's side of the bed, I heard a quiet voice say, "I never dreamed of being disabled." It took me a couple minutes to compose myself before I could reply. In the fifteen years since Jason's brain injury, I can't remember him ever articulating a similar thought. His memory loss has offered a protection of sorts since he doesn't know all he's endured. He's always surprised when he learns about his brain injury or the months he spent in hospitals. His favorite response is a smirk followed by asking why I hit him on the head. He has faced each day seemingly content and without regret about all he's lost. 

When I first met Jason, he was the brightest spot in the room. He had an easygoing energy and brilliant sense of humor (which of course he still has). He was extremely outgoing and confident. I still can't quite figure out how he noticed me since I was especially withdrawn and introverted at this time in my life. Jason was surrounded by close friends and always wanted to go, go, go. Many Saturday afternoons found us exploring new areas in Kansas City or just driving aimlessly with no destination. 

Even though the early years of our marriage were already fraught with his health scares, he continued to enjoy life in between hospital stays. Each summer we loaded Eli into the car and drove to Houston to visit my brothers. One Thanksgiving when I was working retail, he decided at the last minute to drive me to surprise my grandparents since I was sad about missing our family gathering. I can still hear my grandma's voice when she opened the front door and said, "For heaven's sakes!"  

It's been heartbreaking over the years whenever I've thought of all he's lost: his independence, a job he loved, the ease of being an involved father, time out with friends, carefree vacations. I've continually balanced trying to keep him safe while also ensuring his days contained joy. This became increasingly difficult during the past two years. I've been working through regrets of my own, about my excessive overprotectiveness.

Necessity has given me opportunities recently to try and redeem myself. Since this is Eli's senior year at York, I'm determined to attend as many of his activities as possible. In past years, I've often had someone who could stay with Jason since some issues make travel tricky. Last month, we set off together to attend Eli and Leah's play. We were able to spend the night on the hide-a-bed in their little house. When we woke up the next morning, Jason said, "Did you ever think we'd be waking up in Eli's house?" This past weekend we were back on the road since Eli was directing a one-act play and Leah was acting in another. We loved meeting their new kitty who took an immediate liking to Jason. He was so pleased that night when she settled in to sleep next to his head. We bought road trip snacks for the drive home and listened to his favorite comedians on Spotify. It almost felt like old times when we would listen to music in the Thunderbird as we passed the long hours to Houston. 

Charles

When our car immediately started on a recent cold morning, I texted my brother-in-law Chuck to thank him for his help with a new battery. Even though I’ve surely been a nuisance to him since 1998, he has been an ever-dependable help to me. 

After my nephew Conrad was born in 1997, I was determined to live in St. Joseph to be closer to him. I finally secured a job and moved here the following year. Chuck patiently helped move my things into a children’s home where I’d accepted a live-in position. When it soon became clear that this wasn’t the right job for me, Chuck patiently helped move my things out…and into the basement of the duplex where he and my sister lived. Even though it was a temporary fix, I’m certain he hadn’t planned on a squatter with boxes of vintage hats taking up space in his home. 

When I found a new job and studio apartment, Chuck gladly helped move me again. Even though I was no longer constantly underfoot, I continued to be a quite frequent visitor in his home. I have to wonder if he started to quietly wish I would find some friends soon, but he never made me feel unwelcome. And, still, he came to my rescue. 

One evening during a snowstorm, my sister asked him to come fetch me at my apartment. The plan was for me to spend the night so Chuck could drive me to work the next morning. After we had safely made it back to their house, I realized that I may have left a candle burning in my apartment. Poor Chuck climbed into his truck so we could drive back across town to check. When I sheepishly told him the candle hadn’t been lit, he didn’t even shake his head in frustration. Instead, he lightheartedly took corners quickly and spun donuts in the deep snow of the streets. 

In the years that have followed, he has been a steady source of support. There have been more moving boxes, countless home repair questions, trips with us for doctor appointments and surgeries, and even a hug here and there even though he’s not generally a fan of them. He has stayed with Jason so I could attend important events, and been a tremendous influence on Eli. Through it all, he hasn’t needed my gushy expressions of gratitude, but it seems he’s going to get them all the same.