Family

“The bonds we create in the household are the most important and lasting. Savor them; they’re sacred”.   Rainn Wilson

I always managed to keep our little family together and intact while the children were growing up.  No matter what was going on during the day we managed to come together in the evenings for dinner.  When the children were young I always made a point to take them to the park before dinner time.  This was their time to run and play and make as much noise as they wanted.  We had about three or four parks that they could choose from for their afternoon outing. Their favorite was the “castle” park.  I’m not really sure why they called it that – but they seemed to love that one the best.  I always thought it important for them to have a time of freedom, a time when their imagination was fully engaged, a time of exploration. On special occasions, after the park, we would go to McDonald’s. I always felt bad not being able to just take them there as often as some of their other friends got to go.  I had a habit of cutting things in halves and/or quarters so we could share.   Then I’d buy two drinks and two of us would share one and two would share the other.  Somehow we always managed, after all, we were family.

When my son, Yamil, was about 12 or so, he wanted to play football.  It seems that all the boys in the neighborhood were playing football.  At the time I didn’t have health insurance for the children so it was imperative that they stayed healthy and free from any serious injuries. I went back and forth in my mind about whether to let him play or not.  I was often ridiculed by the parents, mostly the fathers, at the Boys and Girls club, who would admonish me saying….” do you want him to grow up to be a sissy?, he’s a boy”.  They would go on and on about how I was babying him, etc., etc. – all those things that people say. It’s funny to me how people can always give advice on how you should raise your children.  I never understood why people equate being physically tough with manhood.  I know plenty of “real men” who have never played aggressive sports.  After much angst, I decided not to let him play.  That didn’t go over well with Yamil but being the kind of son he is, my decision wasn’t met with too much resistance. Anyway, when Yamil became an adult and moved out on his own, he joined a flag football team in Boston. I guess this was HIS way of fulfilling that unrequited desire to play.  He was always very athletic and extremely quick on his feet.  Every week he would be so excited about the upcoming game on Sunday and then Sunday evenings I eagerly awaited hearing the play by play of the “Big Game”. One Sunday night he called and told me that he got hurt while playing.  At first I thought it might be something that he’d get over very easily; however, the next day he called to say that he couldn’t put any pressure on his foot.  He barely made it to work.  He winded up having to leave work early to go to urgent care to find out what was happening.  After the physical exam and some tests, it was determined that he had torn his Achilles tendon and needed surgery to repair it.

Back here in Maryland, his best friend, Brandon, was critically ill in the hospital.  Brandon has sickle cell anemia and often has crises that require him to be hospitalized.  This time, however, it appeared to be a lot more serious. Yamil was determined that he would drive from Boston to Maryland to check on his friend, even though it was his driving foot that he had injured.  After talking things over with the childrens’ father, it was decided that Yamil would fly to Texas and let his father perform the surgery. (His father is an orthopedic surgeon.)  However, his father was insistent that Yamil come immediately! I knew that there was no way Yamil was going without seeing Brandon first.  With a made up mind and an act of sheer will, he managed to drive from Boston to Maryland that night and the following day was able to see his friend.  From there it was off to El Paso, Texas.  His father met him at the airport and they proceeded directly to the hospital.  Everything was set up and ready for the surgery.  His father even sent me different articles on the surgery explaining the different methods he could choose from to do the repair. I had no apprehension about the upcoming surgery because his father is an excellent surgeon!!  Even though we have been divorced for many years, we always were a good team. The surgery, as expected, was successful and the days that followed were recovery days.  After about three days, Maya (my middle child), announced that she was going to Texas to get her brother and bring him back to Maryland for a full recovery.  They arrived safely back in Maryland, Yamil with an almost  full leg cast and crutches, and Maya carrying the bags.  This would begin the long, almost six month, recovery period. Unable to drive, it was incumbent upon the three of us, Maya, Nayda and me, to get him back and forth to physical therapy and to his doctors appointments.

Even though it was a stressful time, it was the first time in a long time that we were all together again.  Maya had been away at school in Pennsylvania and upon returning then went to Spain.  Nayda had been in school in New Jersey and then was back in Maryland. Incidentally, Yamil’s best friend Brandon made a full recovery and was able to visit Yamil during his recovery period! Precious to me were the nights we all had dinner together and then would get Yamil back downstairs to the family room. Settling down, we each would take our respective stances – Yamil playing video games with Maya on the couch, Nayda, doing graphics on her computer in the easy chair, and me off in my own little corner playing scrabble on my computer.  Those six months were very comforting to me.  A time when I felt whole once again, not having to worry about where they were or if things were going OK.  Not holding my breath each time the phone rang fearing the worst.  It was a time when everything was right in the world.….We were back together again…….FAMILY!