Friday, August 26, 2011

New Wheel Chair

It was two years ago this month that a representative came to our home and measured Jed for his new custom wheelchair.  We were naive and believers in the system, so expected all to go well and waited paitently for his chair to be manufactured.  We were told that it would be a few months. 

After more than a few months we followed up.  Lo and behold they didn't even know who we were and had lost all the paperwork.  This started a scrambling game that involved three wheelchair companies, lawyers and insurance companies in two states.  I can assure you that we are no longer naive. 

I had to report one company to Medicare Fraud for billing Medicare without providing us a chair.  After months and months of dealing with the fraud and finally being released by Medicare to pursue a new chair, we found ourselved in a insurance claim issue related to a little old lady in Colorado who ran into Jed while in a loaner chair. 

So, two years later he got his new chair.  This one is his.  It was made especially for him based on his measurements and his needs.  It felt like Christmas to me.  The guy who delivered it seemed like Santa Claus and I was happier than you can imagine.  I felt like I had been to war, came home a hero and had a fine limo to ride in. 

Jed, had a little bit different response.  "It's okay."  "It's a little harder to work with."  I'm silently screaming, "You've got to be kidding.  I fought wars for this damn chair.  It's got to be perfect and you have to love it!" 
It's now like the day after Christmas.  Tree is bare and gifts are opened and imperfect. 

It's just that a chair can't fix what is wrong.  The chair is good, real good, but Jed still can't do for himself.  He cried the other night because he can't brush his own teeth.  And I wanted him to be happy happy joy joy with his new chair.  Yes, it's good.  Yes, we are go very glad that this battle has been won, but we have so many more to fight.  I get it, why he wasn't so completely overjoyed.  I get it.  Maybe I am still a little bit naive. 

Monday, August 15, 2011


When she was born, she was perfect.  I looked at her and couldn't believe that she really happened.  Everything about her was perfect.  The years of her growing tall were vital to my life.  She gave me breath and purpose.  We both loved and hated one another.  We are so much alike.   She was everything I wanted to be, and I was everything she needed.  Mothers and daughters.  What a breath of womanhood.    I'm so sorry that I didn't let my own mom know what a rich and wonderful heritage she gave to me. 

So, now, she's getting married. My daughter, the bride.   I wish and pray and hope for a perfect life for her.  Being a parent is a very hard job.  We want to protect our children from all the pain and hurt we've gone through.  We want them to just "flow" through life happy and content.  We want, we want, we want.  So much of life is a decision.  We can decide to be happy or miserable.   I wish for her happy decisions. 

Moms and daughters have a very important roll.  It's written in stone.  We will support and lift one another in wonderful times and. when life turns black.  we  will cry together.   It will be hard on both of us, but it will be rich. 

But now, I thank God for my daughter.  I thank God for Jason.  Angie has waited a very long time for a life long love.  I pray that their love can withstand the stuff that comes to us.  As the mother, I want to say,"I will protect you from anything that isn't perfect in your life."  But I know that life will happen to her as it has happened to me, so all I can give her is my love. 

Being a mom is the most remakable thing in life.  I'm a mom.  Oh, my God, I am so thankful for the privelege.  She was perfect when she was born and she is perfect in my eyes now.  I wish for her a roller coster life. 

Sunday, August 7, 2011

No matter what you do

Sometimes, no matter what you do it's wrong.  How can that be?  I was raised in a very protective environment (on a farm in the middle of Nebraska.)  I was led to believe that if you worked to do the right thing, the right thing would come about.  But then, maybe that wasn't the lesson I was to learn as a child. 

My parents were amazing people.  They worked hard, were self sustaining, and raised the four of us with unseeming ease.  They gave us a heritage that has power.  It's connected to dirt and sweat and honesty.  It's connected to sky watching and tractor fixing and church going.  Mom used to say, "the week just goes better when we go to church." 

But I remember times when no matter what they did, it just didn't go right.  Once dad extended himself beyond his imagination and bought a prize bull.  The bull had a strong will.  Dad needed it in the south pasture and the bull just wouldn't go.  So, dad harnessed the prize bull and wits to hoofs they battled the quarter mile slowly and determidly.  Dad won.  But, once in the pasture of cows galore, that darn bull heaved and died. 

Now that was a big one.  Prize bull.  More money than dad had ever spent on a bull.  I think it almost killed my dad, but instead we had amazing steaks for a very long time.   Sometimes, no matter what you do it's just wrong. 

I suppose the reason I just keep going is that I know these prize bull experiences are few and far between and it really is true that if you just keep on going on, trying to do the best you can, things will work out. 

Life isn't easy for us.  Sometimes we pick at each other because, why not, who else can be blame for an imperfect life?   I'm thankful for the heritage that I was provided.  Sometimes, the hail would ruin the crop, sometimes the rain wouldn't come.  But we always managed.  If the bull died, we ate it and moved on. 

Tonight has been a no rain, hail, bull dying night.  But, we will move on.  Because, no matter what you do, sometimes, it's just wrong.  But there's always tomorrow and some wonderful steaks to be had.