Facebook Publication Date: 3/3/2018 23:03
Lace on Race
Lace on Grace (Relational Ethics)
The Face of Lace (Personal Reflection)
Coming to an end of a significant day.
Some say that choosing to take one’s life is saying ‘no’ to the Universe.
If that is true, then there have been 15 years of ‘No’.
The first time my ex husband decided that he would decline the Universe’s generous offer, it came as a shock. I am not entirely sure after which attempt the shock value wore off, but it did. Eventually.
Eventually, it became almost normative. Those three years that he resisted the Universe’s steadfast pull became like a dance. A dance of the absurd, to be sure, but a dance nonetheless.
Sitting on the grass at the clinic where he made an almost clean getaway, he looked wistful, surprised at the tricks his mind was playing on him. As we finally walked to the ambulance to the ICU that would be his home for fully 2 months, with another 3 in another locked ward, he placed one foot on the bumper of the ambulance where they would make him lie down, looked at me and said, with bracing, piercing clarity, “Well, this is surreal, isn’t it?”
Indeed it was.
As I drove behind the ambulance to the inpatient facility, I remembered the ride to the clinic, grateful for the new (to us) car which had kid locks, locks that kept him from opening the door as we sped down the 805 freeway. I remembered a man for whom life had not been kind, a man who tried in a world not meant for him.
I remembered his gentle soul; his quiet demeanor. His efforts at being a good husband to me, even though the idea of being responsible for a woman, even an independent, self-contained woman like myself was always a strain; the felt responsibility of shared life coming to a head when we bought the property. He made a valiant go despite the demons; he walked into stiff and hostile winds to be the man he felt I deserved.
But biology got the best of him. Synapses and neurons and neurochemicals simply refused to behave, and added with stressors, finally felled him.
There would be more attempts in the next three years. No more surprises. No more dances. Just a plodding and a straining against what seemed inevitable. But effort, yes. Effort.
Sometimes misplaced effort. Shoulder to the wheel, but the wrong wheel. Wasted energy. Still decline.
It took fully 10 years for him to climb back to a semblance of normalcy. In that time, he (we) lost family, friends, security. But he did. He became the man he was meant to be.
But just like Charly in ‘Flowers for Algernon’, the respite was short lived. For five years though, he became the man he wanted to be; and I was blessed to watch him, not as his wife, but as his friend.
In 2016, after finally finding and maintaining friendship for years, after witnessing the twinkle return to his eyes, his quiet but knowing wit return to his lips, we decided to abide again.
I regret nothing, nothing of the six months that ensued. Three months later, a resident doctor decided, after a 10 minute interview, that he was doing so well in his new life that he didn’t need ‘help’ anymore, and took him off of the drugs that kept his brain in balance, and began a slow slide that led to his final attempts beginning a year ago this month.
After many other struggles, and so many people deserting him (us) again, and others telling me to cut him (and his humanity) off to save myself. He is not the same. I cheer him on and help him from a physical distance, but the promise I made him almost 24 years ago is still in force, however amended it may be.
Why am I telling you all this when my focus is mostly on race? Because my focus isn’t just on race. It is being who you are called to be, even when it is hard, so hard.
It is about keeping your promises and standing by and with, even without payoff and with heavy price.
It is about refusing to be a bystander. It is about deciding who and how you are going to be, and refusing to take offramps when it is easy.
It is remembering that even when the struggle is not your own, that you still have skin in the game.
Because when one chooses to become part of another’s story, one ceases to ever be a spectator.
It has been hard to love my ex husband. Especially when the pull of society tells me not to. Tells me to cut my losses. Encourages me to minimize and walk back commitment. Tells me that this is not my fight. Blames him for being sick, and labels me codependent for still caring if he breathes and thrives.
Are you seeing the parallels yet?
The race, the journey, the fight that you have chosen to embark upon, and that I walk with you is bigger than you. Just as the Universe has tasks for my ex to do, otherwise he would have long been gone, so have we. You are here for a reason bigger than you. Bigger than me. But here we are.
Fam. Friends. Colleagues. Co-conspirators. Allies. Accomplices.
God, I wish this race were more ‘fun’. I wish outcome were assured. But if you learn nothing more from being here in this space, in this community, learn this. That your call, your work, is not a one and done. Yes, you *are* being asked to sacrifice. Some of you in very big ways. Yes, if you do this work with intention, your life will change–and not every change will be one you will like.
Crucibles are like that.
In the 6 weeks we have been together it has seemed at once like a blink and like a lifetime. I will, and am asking you for more than you bargained for. And I will keep asking. Because just like my walk with Robert will never be over, neither will this be, if you are to become the person you are called and charged to be.
Learn this lesson. Steadfastness and reliability and sacrifice and relationship. Even when it’s hard. Even when there is no seeming payoff. Even when it costs you money, friends, reputation.
Bob’s story depends on my living out my story with integrity, intention, and relentless reliability.
This story you entered requires no less, no less of you.
And this the lesson, 6 weeks in. With these questions:
How will you be relentlessly reliable?
What does it look like in our shared crucible?
What will it look like in your life outside your screen?
What does your ‘yes’ mean?
There are 1400 of you now. I really really want to see no fewer than 100 comments.
And yes, I am talking to you. Support the work you say you believe in. Click the button.
Permalink: https://www.facebook.com/laceonrace/posts/pfbid0pLE51WMM2sejwjeHx4GjGhCUNu1eG8hoMG2gCDa2MM2gZEkWQBgU3Hk7S1M3rVVGl
Post Type: Text
Caption Type: N/A
Is Cross Post: 0
Is Share: 0
Impressions: 14
Reach: 8
Reactions: 38
Comments: 37
Shares: 3