I'm Leaving on a Jet Plane

When I opted to stay in Lilburn this summer, to help my mother attend to Paul, I could never have known the challenge that was ahead of me. If asked to describe what it was like in a single phrase, it would be “a true learning experience.” I learned more at home this summer than I did in a semester in college. Though the material was different, the quantity was the same, if not more. My core classes at home were 4 credits of Discipline, 4 credits of Patience, 4 credits Humility, and finally, 4 credits of Understanding. I had a full class load. Taking care of my brother Paul is probably the most challenging job I have ever had. But the reward was definitely worth the struggles.

In early May, when I came home from Florida, Paul’s head was shaved, due to surgery. This exposed all of the scars from his other surgeries. Paul was only 125lbs in May, was very weakened and he still suffered severely from headaches. Whether or not they originated before I arrived home to take care of him, is still uncertain! Let’s face it, I probably gave the guy headaches…I have that tendency apparently. Nonetheless, Paul has done an incredible job in dealing with the pain. They have decreased in intensity though and that is a relief to all our family.

Hospital appointment after hospital appointment, surgery after surgery, is what we had to live with during the first weeks of my return. In fact, I went to the hospital for the first 4 weekends I was home, including my birthday. However, my birthday could not have been better. Mike took me out to eat at the Westin, a restaurant on the 73rd floor of a skyscraper in Atlanta, and Shannon (my girlfriend) sent me cards and gifts from her whole family in Oregon, and it was the last surgery for Paul. So, May 26 was a good day all round.

Paul needed someone at his side for the majority of the summer. On walks, he placed his hand on my shoulder to steady his balance. He sat in the shower, and needed someone to manually control the shower head, in order that he was sufficiently bathed. He needed someone to feed him through the feeding tube in his stomach. He needed constant tending to his eye. Life for Paul was about as unbearable as anything I could imagine. At Summer’s end, Paul has come light years from that suffering, and only with the help of our Lord. He walks independently after only one week in rehab, showers by himself, dresses himself (picks out weird combinations of clothes at times) gets his breakfast and lunch (when mom, dad or Jerry aren’t around) and is now 148 lbs. The tube came out on August 11, marking the 9th month anniversary of Paul’s accident. No more tubes, means progress. Paul is practically self-sufficient, with a couple of kinks here and there.

He plays the piano often, is getting on the computer more, takes walks at least 3-4 times a day and walks over to visit our neighbor Bob. Bob and Barbara live across the street and if Bob is sitting outside, Paul will walk over to talk to him. Paul takes his dog Abby with him every time. (Talk about loyalty – Abby is the best!)

Prior to the accident, Paul was really good at a couple of things, one of them was the guitar, and the other was using the Fidero charm. Now, Paul prays. He prays all of the time and in everyplace. His devotion to Jesus and to Mary is comparable to most saints. Paul is handling his pain and suffering like a champ. He offers up the rest for the pain that Jesus suffered on the Cross. Paul is a new Paul, with some of the old Paul scattered about. He still has the Fidero charm…that didn’t go anywhere. We have entered into a period where Paul sings, as opposed to just speaking in conversation. He can make a song out of everything. He hasn’t gotten in touch with his passion for guitar, but he is slowly doing things that he used to do. Every couple of weeks there seems to be a new “Paul” phrase or mannerism that reveals itself.

My summer with Paul is one that I will never, ever, forget. I will use this summer as a basis of how I should be preparing for children, provided I am blest with any. Paul,in many respects, is a child, and thus, I know more than before. I also know definitely that I am not ready for little Fidero’s running around. I wouldn’t be a good father to them yet. I had no idea what it would take to manage Paul who is 21 years old, let alone 4 children like my parents had to. I love my parents for dealing with us, but now more than ever, because I experienced it first hand with Paul in the early parts of the summer. He was my path to sainthood. I love my family so much. I think that the love that I have for each member of my family…including my new sister Marie, is no different than the love they have for me. We have such a tight knit family, and that is what I love most…I am sure they would all agree.

I have to leave for Austria on Wednesday. My mother will undoubtedly be extremely sad to see me go, my father will probably bust out the finest wine…no, just kidding. He will be equally sad to see me go, as will Mike and Paul, but I want to leave the readers of the blog, as well as my family with one small piece of my thoughts. Life has its’ up’s and down’s, as you all know, but what I ask is why do we become so sad to see our loved one’s go? The reason is, “you never know what you have, until it’s gone.” I hate goodbyes…but that’s what makes me appreciate my loved ones so much more. So, live each moment as though it were you last.

In the Sign of Christ You Will Conquer,

James