Beyond Father's Day

My older two children- the ones that aren't children anymore being all grown up and whatnot- are products of my first marriage.

I had at least enough sense to not have any children with my second husband.

This "new" child- a mere 10 years old- is a product of my third marriage.

My husband (the third one- the GOOD one) has no other children even though he had a former wife. When I expressed my desire (pun intended) to have another child before it was too late- I was looking the big Four O straight in the eyes- he said "I don't know what the big deal is- any animal can reproduce".

About a year later he found out what the Big Deal is- actually the first time he felt that little critter kicking and punching inside me he started getting an inkling of the Big Deal-edness of the whole thing.

So we have this boy.

When alot of men, especially those who've never had to share their wives with anyone else, have children, they are adament about the baby sleeping IN THE CRIB.

We had a nursery set up in the big bedroom next to the kitchen. Three rooms away from our room.

Ward said "You can't put that baby in there- he's spent nine months right next to you and he'll be all alone way back there. In the dark". So that baby moved into the bed with us, and there were many times I'd wake up to see them staring solomnly at each other.

Ward's never talked down to Alec- has always treated him as another human- not a baby, possession or toy, and never an annoyance.

He has the patience that the saints WISH they had.

So, wait.

YESTERDAY was Father's Day, what's the lame idea of writing about this NOW?

Today we went in for the initial consultation with the occupational therapist for Ward's outpatient treatments- and though he's still almost 50 pounds underweight with all the weakness, lack of stamina and strength that go along with that, the main concern is his right shoulder.

Not this surgery (either one), but the LAST surgery over 2 years ago, they harvested a muscle from his back for the graft (the graft that failed necessitating THIS surgery/surgeries). This muscle holds the shoulder blade in place. When he had things like tissue and muscle back there, it was apparent that there were issues with that area, and truth told, he was supposed to go for physical therapy at the time but he was still frantically trying to hold onto his job for the insurance he so clearly needed to have, so he/we blew it off.

Now with nothing there but literally skin and bones, it's clear that he's really compromised in that shoulder- the blade pops out of place with little provocation and the entire area hurts like a son of a bitch most of the time.

So the therapist measured his reach, mobility and strength and recorded all of it. He had to fill out a ream of paperwork telling how difficult it is (on a scale of 1 to 5) to do things like lie down, kneel, balance, go up and down stairs, etc. ad nauseum.

At the end of the session, she asked him "Mr. Dixon- do you have any questions? Is there something in particular you want to be able to accomplish at the end of our working together?"

Ward loves to walk, to hike, to camp, to garden, to work on our property, to travel and sight-see everything from National parks to museums and I expected him to answer with any of these things.

But he was quiet, head down for a moment, then he looked past me to Alec- obliviously reading his latest Star Wars novel- and he softly asked

"Do you think I'll be able to throw a ball again?"