Tuesday 17 March 2009

Remembering a fearful day November 6 2008

November 6

Much has happened since the last letter. A quick update, we are back in our apartment in Kunming. The boys started school Monday, and I start Friday. We are not just moving on though. This isn't something you get through and leave behind. It walks with us every day. But we are moving forward, taking what life has given us and relying on him to sustain us. He has come through before, and is coming through now.


Let me try to give you a few glimpses in the next few letters into where we have been these last several weeks physically and mentally/emotionally.

 

The day after the email about depression, I was feeling antsy about getting back to Kunming to return to teaching, to getting back to living in a place we feel is home. I thought I was about ready to begin the going back process. It wasn't just a desire to get back to work and to be busy in order to 'forget'. It was wanting to go home. To do what we were called/sent to do. We had already determined to return, I just hadn't set a date.

 

I received an email from Compassion International about our planned visit to Bangkok to see our sponsored child Panlop. That was something Ruth and I had dreamed of doing since we were only 2 hours by plane from where he lives. By a propitious twist, we were scheduled back to Bangkok instead of Kunming. That made it easy to decide to go see him on the way back to China.

 

A very unexpected moment happened when I saw that email. I had contacted them and given some choices of dates for the visit. When they emailed back, they said it was possible to see Panlop on October 30th.

 

I was shocked, but for totally illogical reasons. Suddenly I was pushed into making concrete decisions. I was no longer in total control of all the details concerning our return to Asia.

 

Apparently, not deciding on firm dates for the visit, for our flights, for our arrival in Kunming, was part of a control issue. Understandable, given the total lack of control over so many decisions I was forced into making in the previous few days. Doctors, hospital staff, officials, even family asking tough questions that demanded answers right away. Do we resuscitate again or not... do you want to cremate or prepare for burial... do you want to have a service at the cremation... are you going to wait for the remains or will you go back to the other kids sooner...

 

Totally unprepared, making decisions on auto pilot. Thank above for Curt and David and Jane and LeRoy. What an incredible support they were in those first hours, days. I have scared myself imagining what it would have been like to do all that alone...

 

The specific details from the Compassion email jolted me into the realm of tangible planning again. I was allowed no more nebulous 'maybes'. I was immobilized by that thought.

 

For the next 10 minutes i just sat.

 

Overwhelmed.

 

With everything; teaching, traveling, packing, being a dad without, being back home in Kunming, calling the airlines, making travel plans from Bangkok to Kunming after our visit with Panlop, answering awkward questions from loving 6th graders, saying tough goodbyes, tough hello's.

 

It was weird. Unexpected. And I was disappointed in me. I should be stronger; 'play the man'.

Lady Macbeth would have had a field day with me.

 

Instead, I felt...

 

fragile

 

That's not a word I have often used with me before.

 

Stupid maybe, foolish, unprepared, sheepish. But not fragile.

 

I felt like one of those Regency romance ninnies who need their smelling salts to be able to revive enough to concoct more inane dialogue.

 

A stark realization occurred. I was not nearly as ready to jump back into it as I thought I was. The plan and timetable I had been going by, the schedule I had set for our return was wise and I didn't need to short circuit it just because I felt I was doing well for about 12 minutes one sunny afternoon.

 

Cognitively, I knew no one was putting those expectations on me. Compassion would have rescheduled. The school would have waited for us to get back. 6th graders can be exceptionally gracious. I could go away to so many friend's homes to have time to heal. For as long as I needed. But the feeling was all consuming. Logic and reason were left outside cooling their heels.

 

I knew then I was all those things I hate to associate with me. I had to rely on people. Another foreign concept. Having to say, 'I can't'. 'Will you do this simple thing for me?'. 'Can I just be here and not answer your questions for a while?'

 

And I had no assurance that I would ever be different; better; anything resembling wholeness again.

 

Is this who I am now? Please, please no.

 

On this side of fragile I can see healing in humility and dependence. But when I was immersed in it, it was debilitating. Just let me find a dark corner.

 

And don't find me.

 

................

 

Obviously that was one stage in this trip. There have been others. Some expected, some not. All have helped shape where I am now. And now is much better than then. Coming through that has helped hope to grow. Hope for healing.

 

Speaking of 6th graders, I get to see them tomorrow. That will be really good. They have an innate ability to balance grief with goofiness. Wow, healing has not looked like what I thought it would.

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