A four-year-old little boy in the same state program with Eloise recently passed away. We inherited all of his feeding supplies. We now have at least two dozen boxes of supplies downstairs, his name written on every single one. I didn't know this little boy, and I don't know what his disabilities were, but I was sad that his short life was mostly filled with difficulties, and he hardly was able to enjoy the better parts. I also see the other side, all the turmoil and strife he missed. He may have missed the fun, but he also missed the ugliness in the world. However his mother is still suffering. I know how life-consuming having a child with such problems is, and all her hard work and love ended with a painful departure. I feel much more pain and empathy for her than for her son.
I wish I wasn't compelled to use the supplies out of necessity. I wish I could throw it all out. I am weary of being part of this medical world, with wild-eyed mothers and miserable children. I am tired of feeling so strapped in every department - financially, spiritually, emotionally, physically. I get so restless. I often envy my younger self, my naivety and ignorance.
I was telling my mother just last night that I feel like I've lived a fairly extraordinary life thus far. I have done incredible things, like circumnavigated the globe, got an undergraduate and master's degree in 5 years, traveled extensively, felt immense joy and passion, and also have experienced the opposite. I've been physically trapped, my mind has been absolutely commandeered by mundanity and routine and diapers and feeding bags. I wonder if there are always opposites, if every life is ultimately balanced. I wonder if the mother of that little boy will find her own balance, if all the medical intervention was worth it to prolong such a difficult life?