SEEDS FROM PLOT 509

      An event has occurred in my life that has cut into my gardening pleasures. I just found out three weeks ago that my five-year-old son has Duchenne's Muscular Dystrophy. We have known that he has had problems with low muscle tone and balance, and this diagnosis explains the symptoms he has had all through his earlier years.

      This news has torn into my heart. It has cut into my passions for gardening and into my excitement I would normally have for moving into our new house. Many things have come to a screeching halt. I have come to telling myself that I have to become a rock of stability for my son, as well as for my other two boys and my husband.

      I cried a lot in the beginning and felt the need to let the many people I relate with daily know of our tragic news. But now this drive has diminished greatly. I feel dried-up and very low in energy. I feel resigned to this news - like the end has already happened.

      My husband, on the other hand, has been responding to his feelings almost as if he has to re-open this wound daily, keeping it fresh. This is from my point of view. He tells me that this is what will help him and is what he needs to help Jake and others. I don't really know if I agree with him on this. I feel as though I'm aware on an as-needed-basis of the ironies and sadnesses of the detriment of DMD on my son. The "jury is still out" on this, and I'm hoping to get some objective points of views on how to "grieve" and "live" at the same time.

      I remind myself that my son is here now, and like it or not we are fortunate enough to have the time we have with him, unlike parents who lose their children in quick death. Those parents are left with all those feelings of "if only we" this or that. My path right now is to obtain some counseling for my son and for the rest of the family. It is so easy to give in to anger and self-pity, and I do know that these emotions need to be processed. I'm seeking the coping skills that I'll need so we can walk or rather roll (in a wheel chair) down this path graciously.

     By Aspen Marks