When Words are Not Enough

There are things in our lives that we just accept as facts. Most of these things are items that we don't even given a second thought to, and they just become part of our "story." Friday night I had my eyes opened, and I was able to view a part of my life's story in a different way. Consequently, I am filled with more love and respect for my parents than I have EVER felt in my whole life.

A little over a week ago, my parents received a call from my childhood pediatrician. He is 82 now, and he retired from practicing medicine many years ago. He told my parents that he still had my old medical records, and he wanted my parents to have the file. He also wanted to find out how "Kevie" was doing. It's funny, I'm 37 now, but I'll always be Kevie to him.

My parents went over to his house last week and picked up my records. They had a wonderful talk with Dr. T., and they were able to fill him in on my life and the lives of my siblings. He did so much for my family, and I know that my parents enjoyed being able to see him again, after so many years.

My parents are currently out-of-town, so I have been staying at their house, dogsitting and housesitting. This past Friday night I sat at their kitchen table to look at my medicial file. Seated at my feet were Rudy and Scout, my two favorite dogs.

As you can probably imagine, my file was very thick, but I was interested in the whole thing. I tried to read about all of my visits to his office for the usual childhood ailments, or numerous kidney problems, but I was unable to make out his handwritten notes, due to his "unique" penmanship.

Fortunately, I was able to read all of the typed medical reports, letters, and correspondence between the different doctors that I saw as a child. These documents were so interesting to me, because I learned more about my disability, but more importantly I FINALLY realized just how special my parents were, and still are.

As I have mentioned in my blog posting about my sister Karrie, I had a sister with a much worse form of Spina Bifida. She was born in September of 1970, and I was born in December of 1971. I have always "known" that, but after taking a "peek" into their day-to-day lives in those medical reports, I now realize just how difficult and trying those times were for my parents.

I read, with tears welling up in my eyes, about all of the physical therapy that my mom had to perform on each one of us. I read about all of the things that my dad had to do with us as well, and I was just overcome with emotion. Now, I completely understand why my parents have always said that the early 70's were a complete blur to them.

I am not a parent, and I can't pretend to understand how difficult it is to raise a child. But most people only have to care for one healthy baby at a time. My parents had to raise TWO disabled children that were only a year apart.

One of the things that really spoke to me when I read my file was how much "work" went into my care...and I was the "healthy" one out of the two of us! My sister's disability was so much worse than mine, and I can't even imagine all of the time and effort that went into her care.

I could go on and on, but I need to get to the title of my blog posting. As I was reading my file, I realized that I needed to do something to honor my parents and show them how much I appreciated, loved, honored, and respected them. I'm going to show them this blog entry, but that's not enough. I have to do SOMETHING, because right now my words are not enough to express how I feel.

I'm not sure what I'll do, but whatever it will be, it will pale in comparison to all that they have done for me. But I wrote this blog tonight to give my feelings a public forum. I'm proud to say that my parents have been married for 41 years now, and I believe that they will be together for life.

They've had their ups and downs, but who hasn't? But their marriage has survived the death of a child and numerous other tragedies. I don't know if I'll ever get marrried, but if I do, I have a wonderful pair of role models to look at, in my parents.