“There should be no boundaries to human endeavor. We are all different. However bad life may seem, there is always something you can do, and succeed at. While there’s life, there is hope.” Stephen Hawking
Thanks to Abraham Lincoln (and his mother) for having a birthday that eventually became a holiday, which Maki and I took advantage of yesterday by catching a matinee of The Theory of Everything. If you haven’t seen it, just watch the trailer and see if you can keep your eyes dry.
Of course it is a remarkable story and the lead acting was phenomenal. We all know Stephen Hawking is one of the great geniuses of our time, in spite of his disability. The movie shows him starting out young and healthy as his body quickly degenerates with ALS, while trying to have a normal family with a wife and three kids. He overcomes the doctor’s initial prognosis of a mere two years to live, and continues life as a man of huge ideas who is able to communicate them beyond his physical ability…and is still working, let alone living, at age 73.
It was an inspiring film. Hope above all. A good attitude and the love of a family getting him through the hard times. Overcoming the most daunting odds. But I left the cinema completely exhausted. I felt exhausted for the wife, who stood by his side as she tried to raise babies and maintain a normal home around him. I took it too personally, as I am beginning to realize I often do these days: always trying to identify deeply with something that may not even be close to my story. Always wondering what I can take away, what I can learn. I thought about how charming Vernon can be on a good day, even though his brain is damaged. I thought about what a great thinker he used to be. (Ok, maybe not a ground-breaking physicist, but definitely controversial in a way I think Dr. Hawking would appreciate.) I thought about how much hope she had for her husband in the beginning and how caring for him and the household became increasingly difficult to manage over the years.
Its funny how two people can view the same movie so differently. Maki was inspired and thoughtful. I was tired and sad.
On the way home, Maki asked me why I was still crying. I said: “I just felt that it was so much like our story.”
He said: “What are you talking about? Its completely different!”
“How is it different?”
“Vernon is getting progressively better, where Hawking was getting progressively worse.”
I was startled by Maki’s words. Did he really still think that? A better question was when did I stop thinking that? I must have let these past few weeks take more out of me than I had realized.
Oh, I know, I know… Hope Springs Eternal. I’ll come back to it, maybe even tomorrow. But the idea of doing this for another 50 years doesn’t feel very invigorating to me. I obviously missed the point of the film. I told you I am taking things too personally.
I don’t know where this will all go. I don’t know how completely Vernon will recover. The doctors have told me the most recovery of a traumatic brain injury takes place in the first year. We are rapidly reaching that point and it still feels pretty slow to me, though I also recognize that in the eyes of others, he has come very far. Maybe there is a freedom in admitting I don’t know if he will recover much more than he already has. I don’t know that either. I guess I don’t have to.
I also don’t know if, like Hawking, Vernon’s greatest contributions to this world, have yet to be made. He deserves the chance to find out anyway.
Last night, I started this painting. She’s not anyone I know. It’s not supposed to convey or mean anything. But I’m sharing it because she looks exactly how I feel. She looks tired. She doesn’t look like she understands anything either…but she’s trying to.
And then there is this:
“The greatest enemy of knowledge is not ignorance, it is the illusion of knowledge.” —Stephen Hawking
So at least I’m in good company there. 🙂
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By the way..this is not a ‘feel sorry for me’ post. I know it will pass as things improve and I get back on a better schedule with life…but its this day, this weekend, of the journey, so I’m noting it…
Words fail me when I sit to express what I feel in response to your daily blog Allison. I am constantly amazed, inspired, challenged, surprised, delighted, etc. at your ability to put into words the myriad range of emotions and experiences of these past months. Your journey–it’s searing disappointments and set backs and its triumphant, jubilant moments are a gift to those of us on it with you. Thank you and Happy Valentine’s Day to you–a sweetheart. xo
allison, two thoughts come to my mind when I look at that beautiful women in your painting. The first, 2 Corinthians 4:8-9 ” we are afflicted in every way, but not crushed; perplexed, but not despairing; persecuted, but not forsaken; struck down, but not destroyed. Yes, outwardly the women looks tired, but I can see the strength in her eyes.
My second thought is 2 Corinthians 4:16-17 “therefore we do not lose heart, but though our outer man is decaying, yet our inner man is being renewed day by day. For momentary light affliction is producing for us an eternal weight of glory far beyond all comparison.” This women has not lost heart. She has the strength of the Holy Spirit.
Allision…..your words dissolve me to tears and bring me me to my knees. I love you….and thank you.
I was shocked when you wrote you didn’t know who that painting was! Before I read your post, I saw the painting …. and I just “knew” it was your daughter as a teenager. I was sure that’s who you were painting … knowingly …
However, your blog is profound and beautiful and sad and humbling and deep … but the painting resonates with me… it’s you and your daughter and Maki … all into one ….
I was exhausted after seing only the trailer of the film. Thank you for taking Maki to see it, and however upsetting it is, its good that he sees you cry and that you talk about why.
You and the children will have a different view of this, even though they miss the dad they had, they have very much got a dad even though he is disabled. His position as their dad is one very important and in that sense its true: Vernon’s greatest contributions to this world, have yet to be made: continuing to be his childrens father, because when we have got children, they are our main concern, and to fill that important space we just have to go on living the best that we can. Thats what they need us to do. (You are certainly doing your job very, very well.)
I think it is a good idea to start to think about how to cope long term, it was probably the point of the whole film, making you think those thoughts, just that the makers of the film never knew. Miss you all. Big hug and lots of love.
you are feeling very far away right now Allison ..if there was a way Paul and I could be with you, we would be, to be there for you and ofcause be with Vern as much as we could… you are doing an amazing “job”, life has thrown you a curve ball, not the life you and Vern were expecting in America. But i know , you will pick yourself up and fight another day, just one step at a time, ..one step at a time …
love you lots xx always here for you xx
Dear Allison,
I just told a close praying friend about Vern and Allison and the length of time that he has not been home. If anybody could feel sorry for themselves you could but you seem to be so upbeat about the whole matter. This friend that lives over in Middle TN and they had a bus ministry and have been in the church and worship a living God for a long time. They will add you and Vern to their prayer list. At times we just have to give in to tears because they seem to clear the way ahead.
Love and Hugs,
Becky Jones
Wish I could add something “manly” to all these female supporters, but they’ve said everything I wanted to say and more. God is at work in you, Allison, and we are privileged to be witnesses through your wonder-full words. Jude 2
Quite frankly, if it was a I feel feel sorry for myself post, I for one don’t care. Reading your thoughts is a way of me listening to you and absorbing some of your feeling through your expression, listening with an unprejudiced ear.I cannot begin to imagine really what it must be like to walk in your shoes. You are brave and strong.
I absolutely adore that painting! And the idea that it expresses an unknowing and tiredness that you feel… it gives it all the more depth. Truly beautiful work!
Thank you, Allison, for sharing the whole journey. Synnøve is right; Vernon’s still doing an important job of being a dad to his children. Praying for you.
Your painting is beautiful! I love seeing work in progress and think this is stunning just as it is…hinting at what it might be like completed, but leaving the possibilities open. Just like in life.
I awoke at dawn today and prayed for you, and this verse came to mind:
Ephesians 3:20-21New International Version (NIV)
“Now to him who is able to do immeasurably more than all we ask or imagine, according to his power that is at work within us, to him be glory in the church and in Christ Jesus throughout all generations, for ever and ever! Amen.”
ps(is there any way you could take a weekend away from everything, to recharge?)
I love the painting just as it is. The beauty and depth in her eyes is profound. Even tho we have not met I so grateful getting to know you and Vernon and your family through your honest and vulnerable blog. After reading your your post I always feel like I want to say something profound…lol but mostly I am inspired. 🙂 don’t forget to take care of yourself, good suggestion from your friend Kay, bless yourself with a weekend away, maybe even a massage!