Hello to all of you still registered on our site, especially since we have been missing on CaringBridge all summer. It’s hard to describe why except to say that Hanna and I both lost our mojo when summer came around. Hanna was so tired after her efforts last year in physical therapy, catching up in school, and having another surgery during her spring break that she didn’t have much emotional energy left after the school year finished. I felt like it was a good thing to give her time and space to recover from one of the hardest years of her life so I didn’t press her to do much. Needless to say, we haven’t moved forward and would describe this past summer as sinking into avoidance. Each step of the way, I try to recognize that it won’t do Hanna or me any good to ascribe any blame as to how we cope and instead, recognize the intense, relentless grind of the past year.

As I reflect, we both legitimately needed a break. After Hanna’s hand surgery, her walking practice came to a complete halt as she shifted her focus to therapy on her hand. She has improved her functioning in her hand and followed up with her hand surgeon just this week. It was a win for Hanna because her surgeon was very pleased with her gains and suspended any plans for more surgery! However, I recognized Hanna was depleted when she was cleared to return to physical therapy in June and she still hasn’t returned. I had also made suggestions about getting a summer job, which was rejected outright. Many of her friends had summer jobs which limited her social life this summer, making things worse. Eventually, even Hanna recognized that she had hit a wall.

In hindsight, I hit a similar wall and it was unexpected. My experience has taught me that the emotional impact of a crisis is more likely to surface when it has passed. For instance, it makes sense that combat Veterans tend to be overwhelmed with the impact of a deployment after returning home rather than in country when their only choice is to perform on their missions. After Hanna survived and came home safely from the hospital, I settled into the long haul. However, I realize now that the long haul has wore me out. Anyone who has been a caregiver will likely relate to the constant stress of making sure medical, emotional, and physical needs are attended to adequately.

Some good things happened this summer. In June, I had the privilege of going with my college bestie to Morocco to visit my brother. It was truly a complete break from reality. After living in Morocco for two years and having exceptional hospitality skills, my brother treated us to a five-star geographical, cultural, and historical tour of central Morocco that was breathtaking. He planned visits to ancient cities and mosques, a stay at an oasis in the Agafay Desert complete with a camel ride, a drive through the rich agriculture of the high Atlas Mountains, spontaneous attendance at a concert with elite Moroccan guests (by virtue of my brother’s diplomatic status) to celebrate the 200 year relationship between Morocco and the U.S., a beach day in a remote surfing village, and time in a famous Portuguese port, in which scenes from Game of Thrones was filmed. There’s not enough space to talk about interesting people and delicious cuisine. The most amazing reprieve of this trip was that my brother insisted our only responsibility was to enjoy it. Jealousy of this trip is a reasonable reaction!

In my view, Hanna’s positives this summer were any activities that were “normal.” I mentioned in the last post that we had a dip in my parent’s hot tub together. This summer, our home health aide managed to coax Hanna to relax on a raft in her mother’s pool a few times, including a fully submerged experience hanging onto the side of the pool. From there, Hanna was less trepid about getting into Fremont Lake at my parents, floating on my younger sister’s paddle board when we visited in July. The culmination was a transfer to a Sea Doo in the driver’s spot with my older sister behind her supporting her. They cautiously cruised the lake and I sat on the dock with a full heart. Hanna has been so avoidant of engaging in real world activity that I have been anxious about how to push her outside her comfortable bubble. Hanna would tell you different positives. First, she was thrilled to hear recently that she was approved to move forward in getting a service dog. She has wanted one since the accident! It can be chalked up to another long haul because the agency predicted an 18-month process. She is also thrilled that her mother took steps to make a tattoo materialize by her 18th birthday at the end of the month. Don’t judge me!

Summer break for all of us ended last week Wednesday when all four girls returned to the classroom. The twins are in second grade, Lynden advanced to seventh grade and Hanna hit her senior year. The littles were all ready and excited to return; however, Hanna’s comfortable summer bubble burst. She was unduly stressed about starting her last year, wondering if she could be successful in a dual credit class, feeling anxious about the cafeteria, which she avoided last year, and about finding an internship required for class credit. We went round and round about her schedule and I held firm. She survived and is pushing through feeling overwhelmed. I can say the same for myself. Although it feels as if we stalled out this summer, I know that it was simply another chapter in this life that is unpredictable and dynamic. I know many of you have also encountered the unexpected in the past few months and understand how hard it is to let go of the illusion of control. Letting go is a difficult emotional process and I’m not very good at it. My best defense has been to keep faith in God’s redemption and to connect with others, sharing experiences and love for each other. Despite our withdrawal this summer, Hanna and I remain sincerely grateful for your continued support, love, encouragement and prayers.