Posted by
Eric Jay on Monday, June 29, 2009 9:00:00 AM
On Sunday I took some time to attempt to teach my daughter how to ride here bicycle. As I know there are many out there who have embarked in the same mission, for me it is a a mission fraught with danger. Oh, not the kind of danger that might result in blood, but all the same, it might as well have. Some of you may recall that I suffer from a very bad back; not just pain but excruciating pain that even the simplest of tasks end in great pain. Yesterday, was no different.
Keep in mind that I can't even bend over to pull weeds (or squat, as I can no longer 'bend' at the waist) without ending up flat on my back the next day. I have a myriad of spinal problems, a brief list:
arachnoiditis/failed back surgery syndrome,
spinal stenosis,
spondylolisthesis,
degenerative disc disease*, arthritis and the list goes on. I bring this to the fore, more for my sanity than anything else, and to explain a little of my mental status. There is not a moment that goes by in which I do not suffer some pain, basically it sucks. Every day in which I find myself placing one foot off the bed, then the other, and then with great pain and joy I am able to put one foot in front of the other and walk! I am blessed that I can do so and thank God for the gift of life and the joy of walikng- see, it is the simple things.
So now that I have played the pity card, the woe is me game, I am brought back to my daughter. What father has not said to himself that he will take the day, along with the beautiful sun, a small breeze about, and the gorgeous smile that is his son and/or daughter. Sam sitting on the pink seat that is her 'Princess Barbie' bicycle, ready and waiting for Daddy to take her in hand, offering the security that only a father can provide and calmly saying "ready, set, go!!!!"
At first it is the sheer delight of taking that first couple of pedals and the glee with which Samantha exclaims, "Daddy I am doing it! I can ride my bike!" All to come screeching to a halt as the laughter turns into terror punctuated with wailing tears...
Then, as I explain the old adage, 'get back up and go again...' 'No blood...no harm...' Now we set the goal...'Daddy will count as you ride,' I take a deep breath, place my hand, just beneath her bum, on the seat and begin, 'one, two, three...'
'I can't do it Daddy...I just can't'
'Let's go again....one, two, three, 4, 5, 6...(laughter and glee ensue again)' She's doing it, she is riding her bike. Okay, so we were making slow progress, and she rides for all of several minutes before falling off into the flower bed and giving up. That was enough for the day. 'Sweetheart, we will try again tomorrow...'
She gets home and tells her Mommy that indeed she can 'ride' her bike. It is a beginning of a very long life of riding her bicycle. She doesn't know it, yet, but she will never forget how to ride. She may forgot that her Daddy took her to the park, the big park mind you; forever she will be able topick up a bike, step over the middle and become one with the doggie.
These are the moments I live for. The huge smile with it's intendant gaps from baby teeth falling out. The great big brown eyes ablaze with wonder, happiness, glee and awe. Not ehrs but mine! I have a mental image that will last a lifetime. When I walk her down the aisle (Gid willing) I will recall the moment of taking my hand off the bicycle seat and seeing her ride off, on her own. Tears are not forthcoming today, perhaps, they will on her wedding day.
Now the hard part. The wonderful spine. I feel every muscle, every joint screaming out in sheer and utter pain. It is all I could do to get out of bed this morning and walk. Something many take for granted. With each painful step, though, I am reminded that with the pain comes with the effort to have those teaching moments in athleticism for Samantha. She's learning to play golf, will I be able to get her into her first tournament; teach her the proper stance, the fluid swing, the solid contact and so on. Will I be able to have the ability to jump into the pool and teach her how to coordinate her hands, feet to swim fromone side of the pool to the other?
I will continue to push my body until such a time as I cannot move. While I was working, and going out on disability from year to year (basically, it was one year/one year and six months working and the same out on disability) my superiors- the ones beyond my direct report- couldn't understand why I couldn't simply step up and be successful in hitting their numbers. Throw in the occassional golf game- for my sanity and the fact that this one round may well be my last- they couldn't understand why I wouldn't simply return to work sooner or permanently. Now I am on permanent disability. My wife still has to defend me and my being truly "disabled." When you look at me you can't see the pain. You can't see the scars from the 7 surgeries. You can't know that I am on morphine, narcotics for pain and more meds. My short term memory is shot, I can't recall where I placed my car keys. Worse, is that I can see a slow reduction in my longer term memory as well. I seem to forget the simplest things, like a certain word or phrase that I knwo is on the tip of my tongue...
It sucks, but I am blessed that today I can put one foot in front of the other. My daughter is napping next to me Her thumb squarely stuck to the roof of her mouth as she sucks, sucks, sucks. A smile gently unfolds accross her lips and I am overjoyed.