Wednesday, January 2, 2013

Heart breaking

Ren & I called in Babi to do a little Raqu time as we prepped for one of our favourite partial family events. As we gathered our ski gear for a night hike up our local mountain Raquel followed us around desperately trying to get in and become part of the action. By the time we all had our pants and sweaters on she was delirious crying that she too wanted to go.
Instead of figuring out sweet nothing's to calm her aching heart or cutting to the bone by telling her, that at this point her EB wasn't going to get her on this excursion or anyone like it in the near future for a plethora of reasons, what made sense by not using her disease against her, was to say, she was simply too small to come along.
Without even a moments thought Raqu had her answer with arms stretched out above her head, that of course, "I'm big!!!" can't you see??. Tears pouring out of her eyes, standing as tall as the giant she's sure she is, this new and feisty little big girl complex bursting at it's seams pulled at our heart strings as we continued out the door.
For certain this is one of the base senses of self I most want from my daughters, passion in their actions and standing up for what they want in life. Raqu had in fact just the previous day went up the mountain with us and friends. It was her first experience in her age of awareness in a land buried in snow. She hardly wanted to take two steps, as all she needed to play with was under her feet in the alpine winter wonderland. Then there we were telling her she was too small, basically ignoring her pleas as we were headed for a quiet little snow covered perch over looking the city and lights sparkling far across the Georgia Straight.
The irony in all this was swift and painfully uncomfortable. With every step I was reminded in a small part her world of friction and pain.
My ski boots have long worn the inside heel away and every year it's the same. I end up with two massive blisters one on each foot from the friction of a good long day out climbing up and out of gullies and bowls. Due to Raquel's constant fight with painful blisters I think I have less and less tended to mine from work or play. So with every step I found myself holding my breath as the pain was consuming.
Was any of that what she feels? I don't remember a blister hurting that much, maybe it was guilt.

Now home and the irritation of my tiny sores gone, listening to Raquel plead for Mommy and little shots of pain in her sleep, it feels more and more awful to have left her like that.
It can only do damage.
Like 'they' say, one day the cuddles will just end. Maybe even the desire to go play and join in on any or all the reindeer games.

Anyway I can't help but to ask if someone reading this in the Vancouver area has a toddler backpack no longer of use that can be modified for our little big girl princess, we'd love to bring it back to life. Just email the link in my profile I'm sure we can work something out.
Ren can tow Coco and Raqu and I can suffer in our blisters and pain along side as a full family event.
Don't worry, skiing with Raquel off into the soft backcountry in a backpack is surely a good idea. She's been launched five feet in the air onto all the pillows and blankets in the house many times with nary a mark. She'll surely be able to survive an small tumble with her dad in the 'pow' also with nary a blemish. She's a pro with the tuck and roll and her nearing perfect somersaults on and off the couch.
Besides, some blisters are worth the suffering, or is that my own twisted masochism?

Glad there is Ren and Raquel's other caregivers wisdom to guide when there is a foot ready to step out and depart from reality or rational judgement.


Not like its a certain I'll listen or comply anyway.





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