" Can't fix that"...

                             It was about ten days after my shoulder surgery, and I was sitting in an initial PT evaluation. My Wonderful Wife had driven me to the appointment and joined us, as the therapist started wrangling my appendage connected directly to the offending shoulder. 

                                   He rolled over a cart carrying an ancient TENS unit, explaining that he would be attaching the electrodes and electrically stimulate the muscles affected. " Neat" I said, " I finally get to be tazed ". He laughed a little, as he attached an ice pack over the electrodes. " Not quite" he replied, as my honey gave me that " Can you just act normal for once?" look...

                                                                 Yeh, right....

                                    He wraps a Velcro strap around my chest to hold the ice packs in place, then starts fiddling with buttons and dials on the console. " This worked the other day... " he mumbles. 

    "I always have problems with this one... This isn't right, those numbers shouldn't be flashing" he troubledly states...

                               All of the sudden, I start shaking, convulsing and clenching my teeth. Mare's eyes grow as large as saucers and the color drains from her face as she reaches toward me in a panic...

                                                   Until I start laughing...

                         I laughed so hard and so loud that the Velcro strap ripped apart and the ice packs fell off of me, onto the floor. " You are an idiot" she says much louder than she intended , moving to whack me on my arm, but stopping in mid- whap, remembering it is my bad arm facing her...

                                          I'm still laughing as the therapist bends down, confused over the debacle that just transpired behind his back. Mare shakes her head as he asks what happened, biting her lip, and I attempt to explain thru unrestrained fits of laughter and giggles, that I freaked her out by pretending to be shocked...

                                               He wasn't nearly as amused as I was.

                             He may have been even less amused than my Wonderful Wife was...

                                                    No, she was definitely less amused...

                                            

                                    He gets the zappers working, tingling my shoulder and then decides to exit the room, leaving us alone.

                          I look over into her beautiful eyes, but catch her steely, unamused gaze...

                 " You can really be an idiot, sometimes. I love you, but really, sometimes you are just an idiot. I'm not kidding. It is not funny, and it can be really annoying "

                                I start to stutter and stammer that she knew that when she married me, but she cut me off in mid sentence.

                                    " I know this is how you are" she says, as her face slowly softens. Her eyes relax a bit and get that gentle twinkle I have become accustomed to, these last fifteen years. She takes a long, deep breath and slowly smiles. " I know your not going to change, but I had to say this and make sure that you heard me. You can be an idiot and sometimes, it really drives me crazy"...

                                         With that, she softly touches my forearm, closes her eyes for a moment, while gently shaking her head and smiles, more out of exasperation than humor..

                                                            

                                                                   I love my Wife...

                                                            She must really love me...

                                    

                                   I smile writing this, as I begin to comprehend that none of this stuff is in the wedding vows. Nowhere is a clause that says I will love you even when you are a blooming idiot. No one ever mentions the stuff like that...

                       Sickness and in health, for richer or poorer, they make sure gets spoken, but that part about being driven crazy, often, by traits that will never change in your perspective spouse doesn't even get a quick gloss over.

                          Maybe it's because no one would believe it? Maybe because in the very beginning, we hide that secret hope that we really can change those things in our spouses, at least just a little?

                                     I absolutely, irrevocably, adore my Wonderful Wife and would do most anything under the sun, in my capabilities, to make her comfortable and happy...

                                                But I am still an idiot, sometimes.

                                   No matter how much I try, that fact will never, ever change.

                                        I am so blessed to have a woman who gets that that this is just part of my package. I certainly have changed in these past fifteen years or so, and much of the need for those changes that have taken place were pointed out, gently by her...

                             You do that, both of those things, when you love someone...

                      You change, and sometimes you also guide the one you love, to do that too...

                                                      It's kinda cool, that way..

                                          But you do see those things that are intrinsic in their DNA that will never change, idiosyncrasies definitive of their unique being, that are pretty much eternal...

                                                    And you love them anyway.

                                               I'm not even sure if it's a choice...

                                                                 But you do.

                                                                 And they do.

                                                       It is pretty cool, that way...

It is all Grace...

                             Earlier this evening I wrote multiple pages for a post, a run on diatribe of judgement and condemnation of Stone Age buracracy.

                               My youngest son has inherited a learning disability from me. My Wonderful Wife and I, along with two very wonderful and amazing relatives, have been trying to get his school to identify, acknowledge and assist him with modifications to help " level out the playing field", educationally.

                        All our meetings culminated in a large committee meeting today with the EXACT same replies from special Ed experts, school psychologist and buracratic administrators that I heard nearly verbatim, over forty years ago...

                           The exact same issues, the exact same replies, in the exact same school...

                                  

                                                           It is all Grace.

                                        I spent large segments of my life resentful of scholastic institutions, biased to the extreme. I often wondered why God layed that particular burden on me at that age, stacked upon multiple others I also did not like or understand...

           A few months ago, my little tornado of a McMonkey saw a specialist who both interned and co worked with the doctor who diagnosed and treated me.

                                                         Deja vu in multiples..

                                           He has what I had. What I still have...

               The funny thing is, on the way home from that appointment,  I looked at my Wonderful Wife with a small lump in my throat. I told her that I finally got it, I finally understood the " why"...

 

                                                             It is all Grace.

                                                  

                                               I went down this exact same road that his growing little feet are beginning to skip and bobble down. He is a pretty well adjusted, happy go lucky, friendly and sociable child. Surrounded by an awesome support system of an Amazing Mom who experienced positive situations  in the scholastic arena and many family members gifted in advocating for children with similar challenges, he is blessed.

                                       He will get the assistance he needs...

                                

                                      He has a teacher that cares enough to work with him above and beyond what is officially required. Although I disagree from her assessment and grading style, I must admit that she is legitimately committed to her students and has done much more for him than any other person in that entire school system. I'm thinking she just may be as frustrated with a system that will only officially assist students in states of failure while ignoring needs of the " strugglers" and those " just getting by", as all the other people actively advocating for my child...

                                                                It is all Grace.

                                                    

                                               The committee is a challenge....

                               I want to label the psychologist as a condescending twit...

                                                        I really, really want to...

                                                                     but...

                                      I have to realize that he simply is not ready yet. He is in a place where he is still thinking his tests are the be-all and end-all, truly believing  that he is completely correct, a victim of his own youthful hubris .

                                                            It is all Grace...

                                

                                        Eventually, by nature, hubris demands it's due..

                      I have stood exactly how he stands today, albeit on completely different issues.

                         Trading being right in my own limited box, for an uncomfortable humility that came from consequences others had to pay for my mistakes and well intentioned failures... 

                               You can't get that lesson from any book or standardized tests answer sheet...

                        Just young and lacking experience in the waters he is presently wading...

                                   He will be Graced by this, or something much like it, along the way, and will eventually become more receptive to solutions outside boundaries of archaic systems and self inflicted constraints.

                                                            I hope so, anyway...

                                                                 It is all Grace.

                             Many parents watching their children go thru painful struggles, pray a quiet prayer offering to take the pains that their child is in, on themselves,  bargaining for a chance to go thru the anguish and struggle for them...

                                    A little over forty years ago,  I was blessed to have done that, for my youngest child...

                                                              I get the " why "...

                                                                It is all Grace...

                                           

                                               I know and can assure him that this struggle is really just a wiggle and that the little bit of crazy that comes with it is no big deal or reflection on his worth...

                                 His Mom and I can deflect the majority of damage, coming soon from the judgmental and Ill-informed teachers that are inevitably down the path for him, that willfully will choose to remain ignorant and dismissive of his diagnosis.

                                   We can convince him, in no uncertain terms,  that it is not him who is, or who has the problem...

                                          

                                                              It is all Grace.

                                                              

                   So I deleted the multiple page diatribe I originally wrote this afternoon. I chose to see all the good an Amazing God can do, if I don't choose that path of judgement and condemnation...

                                  Like I said, I took that road a very long time ago.

                                                      I didn't like where it led...

                                                               It is all Grace...

                                      

                                       

                                              

Happens every time...

                            My Wonderful Wife returned from working out and fed our grand lizard Jason.

       This is kind of a big deal, because he's been hibernating for over two months and just recently started basking under his heat lamp again.

                                                    He ate two crickets.

                      With a couple hours to kill, sans kids, I suggested after she showered that we take advantage of the time and watch an adult movie...

                                          No, not THAT kind of adult movie...

                                                      

                                                            Les Miserable 

                                          

                                           The Hugh Jackman, Anne Hathaway musical...

                                      I don't know why, but this is just one of those shows that we can watch a hundred times and still be mesmerized, every single time.

                                       I shared before that the vice principal of our school, who happened to be teaching eighth grade English one of the times I was taking it,  gave me the book to read.

                   We fought. He insisted, promising me I would relate and not be able to stop without finishing it...

                                              Short story long, he was right.

                         So the kids come home and shake their heads- " Les Miserable " they say, hiding their smirks. Quietly they grab their devices, headsets and play their games...

                        Across the room, the Wonderful Wife tears up as I hold my breath, close my eye lids  and try to will the water to re-absorb back into my corneas.

                                                   It happens every time...