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 I still can't quite figure out how he noticed me since I was especially withdrawn and introverted at this time in my life.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.