WEEKLY WTF
09-30-24 Edition
Daughters Day
Maisie, who now has a stylus strapped to the back of her hand and with steady micro karate chops is finally able to navigate the internet via her phone, just side eyed me from her hospital bed and informed me that today is national Daughters day. I mean… it’s probably some made up thing but… fuck it.
18ish years ago my heart broke in half. I watched that delightful little meat potatoe grow and unfold and… sprout, as potatoes do.
How strange & wondrous to be an old(ish) dog seeing himself in feline form. A softened version of his own hardened heart, a pumping velvet organ not yet turned to leather by life.
What fierce pride to pass on one’s fire. A warmth that appears gentle from afar but will burn your ass up close.
Such an odd mirror- to see your own scowl cast back as glaring beauty. An avenging angel, the purest distillation of yourself.
How difficult to unfold your hands to let your little bird fly at last into the skies of destiny, only to break her wings.
But you realize that this very tragedy is what you were fucking built for. A Fathers greatest and most terrible purpose is to help his little bird mend her broken wings to fly.
Of all of life’s sufferings the old(ish) man has seen, none have come close to the intensity of the ordeal his little girl is bravely enduring.
When she feels weak, the old(ish) man sees only her strength.
Her lamentations twang the old(ish) man’s leather heart strings and his every molecule hums a melancholy chorus of purpose.
Her smile is the singular star in the old(ish) man’s sky, forsaking all other constellations in its singular brightness.
Her eyes melt you with their tenderness and her words hit you like lightning.
It’s Daughters day- so sayeth the social media gods. A bullshit made up thing but there’s nothing bullshit or made up about this Daughter.
It’s Daughters day… every fucking day as far as I’m concerned.
We have to let them fly, we have to.
We don’t get to read the secret contract called fate, not with human eyes.
We can only love, a love both soft and fierce, both kind and frightening.
Everything has led to this.
To help my little bird mend her broken wings to fly.
Hard Stick
Maisie is, in hospital speak, a hard stick, which simply means that they have a difficult time finding her veins in order to draw blood or put in IVs, etc. The nurse made the mistake of leaving this vein light contraption in the room after a couple failed attempts of giving her a new IV. A lamp that when shined upon skin shows where the veins are. I asked the nurse how it works and she said “Hmm, I dunno really”. What I know, though, is that it does cool shit to tattoos and I was intent on fucking around with it- despite Maisie imploring me: “don’t mess with it Dad” but of course I did anyway because she’s not the fucking boss of me. (Just kidding, she very much is the boss of me- and I’m all about it).
Maisie is making progress. As I previously mentioned she has full reign of her phone via a stylus strapped to the back of her hand. She has been given a loner electric wheelchair. They weigh 400lbs and I think cost like 30 grand or some shit. They go up to 6 mph and although I know she’s chomping at the bit to let loose in the spinal rehab hallways she manages to refrain.
Maisie’s arms are getting stronger and she can now reach her own face. She has no control of her fingers (yet) and so she utilizes something called tenodesis grasp: If you extend your arm straight out and let your hand and fingers hang loose, then, while keeping your finger limp, you raise your hand at the wrist you will notice that your thumb and forefinger eventually meet. Utilizing this she is able to pick up very light objects and her very favorite object to lift currently is Nerds gummy clusters. I hate them, but I kinda love them too.
Since the Santa Clara spinal rehab center is part of an actual hospital we get to hear all the codes being called out over the hospital wide PA. Code blue= cardiac or respiratory distress so get your ass to the patient stat fucker! Code grey= someone is being a total asshole- send security. Code pink= a stolen baby (we actually heard a code pink when Maisie was still at the hospital in Chico and we were like WTF… I was ready to tackle a MFer.) I made one up myself- Code Brown= Duh, someone shat themself.
There are a lot of really funny anecdotes (regarding code browns and such) that I am probably not authorized to discuss (let’s give our girl some fucking dignity shall we?) but know that despite the debilitating severity of Maisie’s injury and all the… shit, she has to endure she jokes about it and very often can laugh at the hilarious hideousness of it all. She is making real progress and two of her OTs told her that her abilities and what she can feel has surpassed what’s expected for her level of injury.
But as much as I would like to only ever have funny and inspiring anecdotes to say about all of this- it’s not reality. It’s a slow crawl. It’s fucking hard. And as hard as it is on me & Kristen, and as hard as it is on our family and friends, it’s hardest on her. I am being very mindful to not get lost in my own quagmire of thoughts and emotions because if I do, if I become consumed by my own reaction, then as a result I will see less of her current difficulties.
I can tell you this though- it is fucking humbling to watch our girl go through this the way she is. She is absolutely 100 fucking percent reality. There is an intense rawness about her. She doesn’t waste time with platitudes about her situation. When she’s up she’s up and when she’s down she’s down. She doesn’t hesitate to demand exactly what she needs and when and how she needs it. There is not a timid bone in her body and even I, who generally gives zero fucks and have overcome being intimidated by much of anything in life, find myself awed and often cowed by her force. I think that potentially this honest and clear force of will alone could get her through this.
But we are never alone, not really. I think about all of you praying and thinking and transmitting love and well wishes to our girl. I think about it all the time because I am on the front line, bearing witness to one of the worst things that could happen to an 18 year old girl whilst at the same time being saturated by thousands and thousands of conscious beings directing so much good juju directly to her. As a Dad I am humbled and honored to be able to be by her side through this. I am eternally grateful to my work and my relatives and friends and also all of you. People who don’t know me- and yet you do. And people whom I don’t know- but feel are family. All the folks who have been sharing and donating to Maisie’s gofundme and also all those who just sent a whisper of hope her way. It’s extraordinary what can happen when people unite for a cause.
We’re doing our best not getting caught up in Why’s and WTF’s. We’re just being there for her and knowing that not being there eventually, and ideally, is how we can be there for her- a circumstance that implies she is happy and independent on her own. An 18 year old doesn’t want her parents all up in her shit. But for now there is nothing in heaven or in hell that could tear me away.
One thing I know is that I don’t know. But I am certain that Maisie’s extreme gravity, like a huge boulder making an extremely big kerplunk in the pond of collective consciousness, is causing ripples far and wide, most of the effects of which we will never know.
Perhaps a parent hugs their child a little longer. Maybe a kid decides to zig instead of zag. Maybe someone who was suffering in a mental loop became appreciative of just being able to fucking walk.
Our job, all of our job, is just to do the next right thing. To be a singular seeming reference point for this unknowable thing we call the universe. To do our best and let the ripples run where they will. The smallest pebble of kindness can produce a fucking tsunami. Our business is to simply handle our business and it’s none of our business where our ripples go, so long as our kerplunk is one of good intentions. My intent currently, an intent that commands every fiber of my being is of health, wholeness and happiness for our girl Maisie Mae. Toodles til’ next time and thank you. Seriously, thank you all.
Dedicated to Miracle Maisie Mae
Toodaloo
