Closure

What is it? Seriously. What is it really? When someone asks for closure, what is it they are really asking for?

I have been seeking some sort of closure on several things in my past ~ mostly related relationships, but then aren't we all?

Does closure mean some sort of reconciliation ~ not of the relationship itself ~ for our minds to wrap around in order for us to walk away without looking back? Ever.

Is pursuing closure another way to have the last word?

For me, personally, it's about unanswered questions about the relationship itself. For instance, what were the mistakes I made in that particular relationship and were they what caused the relationship to end? Or did the relationship ending have anything to do with me at all?

I never set out to deliberately make the same mistake more than once, yet there are times where I deliberately do nothing to stop it. I'm not trying to be malicious, yet I know that is exactly what it looks like, it usually just seems like the thing to do at the time.

Right now I am stuck in a cycle of wanting something that I not only can't have, but shouldn't want to have in the first place. This dilemma has caused much distress in my marriage and has brought it to the brink of ending it completely.

Closure

Ah, that word again ~ closure. Something I completely suck at because I have no idea what closure means to me, specifically. It'll just be another relationship that I can say I never had "closure" on and ache forever because of it.

Many years ago, when I was a junior in high school, I met a cop from the community from which I worked. We were just friends for a very long time before we became something much more. It was something that happened naturally and it was something that I truly wanted at that time. Something I was given in that relationship was brutally taken away and, to this very day, it haunts the hell out of me. I need closure.

What I have always wanted to know from him was why he never called after I was put in that position and why he didn't stay for the fallout. Those aren't the only questions I have for him. Having my many questions answered, in this case, means closure for me. It's difficult to say whether or not it would be complete closure, I would just like the opportunity to find out.

There is one other person I had a relationship with that, if given the opportunity, I would like to ask questions of and maybe find...yep...closure.

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One of my biggest detriments is that I feel emotions at such a deep, deep level, yet I am not able to compartmentalize them. I feel that if I could compartmentalize them, especially past relationships, not just men but relationships with a few of my family members, too, then I would be able to close those chapters for good.

Instead, I walk around with all these emotions (some that go back many, many, MANY years) piled one on top of the other and, combined, they emit a buzzing sound inside my head. I'm very certain this is the one of the major reasons I have so much trouble sleeping ~ or at least turning off my brain on command. I really don't want to be a walking bundle of emotions. It saps so much of my energy. On the other hand, were it not for my emotional experiences, I would not be able to do what I do now for a living.

For example, today I had a patient with congestive heart failure, chronic obstructive pulmonary disease, and several other ailments that, combined, make it nearly impossible for her to breathe properly.

This patient, Bella, has been in to see us every week for the past several weeks with one goal in mind: to be able to take a deep, cleansing breath. While doing her intake today, before the doctor came to examine her, she made a statement ~ “I’m at the end of my rope…” ~ and that resonated with me. I was able to draw from my own (recent and ongoing!) personal health issues and understand exactly what she meant.

I didn’t do what many people do and say “I know how you feel; I’ve been there”. I knew actions would speak louder than words so I just wrapped my arms around her and held her while she cried on my scrubs.

My vast emotional experiences allow me to empathize on a much deeper level with my patients. Unfortunately (or is that fortunately?) my emotional experiences with my patients adds to my emotional experiences heap and the buzzing in my head continues.

Sheesh…

If only I could insert a memory card and do an emotional dump…

Community Service

Last spring, right before school let out for summer vacation, Hunter had an incident at school where he broke a glass (yes, GLASS) chalkboard. Subsequently the police were notified, a police report was written up and Hunter was ordered to appear before the Juvenile Court's referee. Henry and I fully supported the chain of events and together, the three of us, appeared before the referee.

It was quite obvious that the referee we met with had been dealing with juveniles for a very long time and Henry and I left the meeting quite impressed with the way the referee spoke to Hunter and even more impressed with the way Hunter comported himself in front of the him.

Because Hunter was a "first time offender" and, Henry and I believed, the referee was also impressed with Hunter, he referred us to a mediator to resolve restitution.

Recently, Hunter and I met with two mediators as well as the principal of his former school. The five of us sat down and talked about what lead up to Hunter shattering the chalkboard in a fit of anger, then we discussed what Hunter could do to make reparations.

We came out of the meeting with Hunter having to write a letter to his new teachers to let them know how his body feels when he starts to lose control, what they can do to help, as well as what not to do (causing him to escalate out of control). Additionally, Hunter must perform 15-20 hours of community service.

For the past two days, as well as tomorrow, Hunter and I have been volunteers at an arts and crafts booth at a very large, and annual, festival in a neighboring town. By the end of the weekend he will have satisfied 15 hours of his mandatory community service and his file will be sealed.

Although an "arts and crafts" booth (actually a long table under a tent) sounds like an easy way out, there really is much more work to this particular one than even I imagined. And I'm a crafts-person! (In looking for a volunteer activity for Hunter it made sense for me to select something that interested me, too.)

Our booth is located inside "Kids Village" ~ directly in front of the main entrance to that fenced-in area. Being that the craft project is free, we have served a LOT of kids the past two days and I am certain tomorrow will be just as busy, if not busier being that it will be the last day of the festival.

The company hosting the booth gathers recyclable materials from area businesses and travels to schools, scout groups, birthday parties ~ wherever kids are ~ to provide bits and pieces of things to turn into works of art.

The art project we are helping the kids create is called a "Windjammer".

Using remnants of gaskets for automobiles (black foam circles with one sticky side), Popsicle sticks (as a handle), multicolored ribbons of paper (to dance in the wind), shiny black ribbons of video cassette tape (from a television station), and a box full of odds and ends (ticket stubs, beads, buttons, wooden letters, etc.) to decorate it with.

When the child has finished decorating the "face" of the windjammer we pour "Pixie Dust" (green, glittered sand) over it to remove the remaining stickiness so it doesn't get stuck in hair or on clothes. The kids LOVE it!

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Every now and again Hunter will say something to me that totally knocks my socks off. Yesterday, as soon as we figured out which area of the festival we would be in and he discovered several carnival rides, he asked me a few times if he could ride the rides. Of course I refused him because he was there satisfy his community service requirement, not play.

By the end of the day both of us were tired from being in the sun and heat, and overstimulated by the busy-ness of the booth and five different music booths competing for attention by attempting to be the loudest, so all I wanted to do was hop on the shuttle bus, get our vehicle and go home.

As we left "Kids Village" Hunter turned to me and remarked, "I don't deserve to ride the rides today because I didn't help you as much as I should have."

I. Was. Floored.

Granted we forgot Hunter's medication before we left the house and I had to have Henry drive it up to us, but Hunter had a terrific day anyway. To hear him say he didn't "deserve" something really blew me away.

After I picked my jaw up off my shoes I replied "You're right, Hunter and I am pleased to hear you recognize that in yourself.

Today, while dealing with a VERY crazy-busy crowd of kids, Hunter said this: "I have to say, Mom, you are really great with kids!"

That's MY boy!

We Are Responsible

We are responsible for children who put chocolate fingers everywhere,
who like to be tickled,
who stomp in puddles and ruin their pants,
who sneak Popsicles before supper,
who erase holes in math workbooks,
who can never find their shoes.

And we are responsible for those who stare at photographers from behind barbed wires,
who can't bound down the street in a new pair of sneakers,
who never "counted potatoes,"
who are born in places we wouldn't be caught dead,
who never go to the circus,
who live in an x-rated world.

We are responsible for children who give us sticky kisses and fistfuls of dandelions,
who sleep with the dog and bury goldfish,
who hug us in a hurry and forget their lunch money,
who cover themselves with Band-Aids and sing off-key,
who squeeze toothpaste all over the sink,
who slurp their soup.

And we are responsible for those who never get dessert,
who have no safe blanket to drag behind them,
who watch their parents watch them die,
who can't find any bread to steal,
who don't have any rooms to clean up,
whose pictures aren't on anybody's dresser,
whose monsters are real.

We are responsible for children who spend all their allowance before Tuesday,
who throw tantrums in the grocery store and pick at their food,
who like ghost stories,
who shove dirty clothes under the bed,
and never rinse the tub,
who get visits from the tooth fairy,
who don't like to be kissed in front of the carpool,
who squirm in church and scream in the phone,
whose tears we sometimes laugh at and whose smiles can make us cry.

And we are responsible for those whose nightmares come in the daytime,
who will eat anything,
who have never seen a dentist,
who aren't spoiled by anybody,
who go to bed hungry and cry themselves to sleep,
who live and move, but have no being.

We are responsible for children who want to be carried,
and for those who must be...
For those we never give up on,
and for those who don't get a second chance.
For those we smother...
and for those who will grab the hand of anybody kind enough to offer it.

~Ina Hughes