When Andrew had his accident last year, I put everything from it in a box. I didn’t want to deal with the paper work, read accident reports, etc. I didn’t know what to do with all of the sweet letters our family and friends sent us. I put it all in that box and closed the lid with an “I’ll deal with this later” attitude. I stacked other boxes of random things on top of it, closed the door and forgot about it over time.
I’ve been cleaning up the room that will soon be Dawson’s. I’ve sorted through bags and boxes of movies, clothes, scrapbook supplies, etc. At the bottom of the closet I found that box full of mementos from his accident. I immediately remembered how I felt when I boxed up all of those items. The hole in my heart and the emptiness in the pit of my stomach. I didn’t know how we would get through each day. I thought Andy would have a permanent limp. I was positive we would never be able to have more children. It was the most difficult thing that I have ever had to emotionally deal with. I didn’t want to deal with it. I wanted to be brave. I put on as much of a tough face as I could.
Today was the day that I had to deal with it. The best part is, I’m ok with that now. I came across a letter that meant the world to us when we received it last year. It is still the most meaningful letter we’ve ever received. In it, our friend shared of a difficult experience that he went through. How he had been devastated by the unexpected loss of a loved one. He told us how God gave him a supernatural strength to handle the situation he was in. He included our favorite verse from Philippians 4:13, “I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me.” This is our “family verse.”
I looked at the things that were in that box in a different way then I did last year. I saw a list of exercises that the physical therapist wanted Andrew to do. Things we all take for granted but were excruciatingly painful for him. There was a notebook that I used for “sitters”-people who would sit with Andy while I was at work or getting groceries. I requested that each sitter take any notes that I might need. My mom wrote an entry in there with the exact time she gave him medicine. Last year, I couldn’t handle seeing these pieces of paper. Today, I look at them with a giant smile on my face, a heart that is full of love, and a stomach that contains the beating heart of our second son.
Re-reading our friend’s letter, looking through that box, it showed me what we are all capable of. We are able to deal with unfortunate situations. We can grow up in a short period of time. We can love more than we think we can. We can push ourselves to great limits. I’m actually excited to finish digging around in that box. I look forward to reading the rest of our letters. And to seeing how far our little family has come in a year.
Do your put things off to “deal with” later? Have you ever stored something away that you wanted to forget about?