For those that are interested or care, an Update on my Monday Post—
I completed my day and a half, 725 mile interview tour to Houston & Austin, and although I won’t know the results until the end of next week, I think that I have a pretty good shot at both opportunities, and probably better with the Austin position. Again, the unfortunate issue is the requirement to move (I’ve always said, I’d rather be beat to death than move, as when you’re done you feel about the same) for either job; the fortunate, if the latter position, then I’ll be living much closer to my father in the Lake Hill Country of Texas. I’m one of those guilty sons that always wanted to spend more time with his father, but because of jobs have never had much opportunity. Now with his advancing age (85) and health issues (treatable– at this point– congestive heart failure) I am well aware that time is running out, so the thought of living within 50 miles (the closest since I was 18) vs. the nearest since, 245 (currently) miles, is a real boon and exciting. I spent Tuesday night with him and my step-mother and they were hopeful that the opportunity will work out.
I will be working the next two days editing the last chapter of my novel (Dragonet: Allah’s Instrument) for submission to my acqauintance for her to pass on her boss for his input next week.
On to Illya, after dropping him off at the vet on Monday morning for the fluid treatment, I went on with a number of errands, but less than 2 hours later they called for me to return and pick him up. They ran his blood tests again and they were much much worse and had decided that the treatment would kill him outright (more or less drown him) and that we could only continue with what meds we were already giving and make him comfortable. That was Monday noon, and he’s still the same, bouncy and alert, but I have noticed he seems to be resting/sleeping more. But, again, when he’s up, there doesn’t seem to be any change. This is slowly killing my wife, she feels that this is happening every couple of months (it isn’t really that frequent), but then four in less than two years is way too much for a heart such as hers.
Now, as Life DOES go on & on, a friend sends me a reality check on my sadness of the impending loss a beloved pet while she is having to close the “doors” on her 35 year old drug-addicted daughter. They tried an intervention a couple of weeks ago (on her birthday) and this on-going hell for her has come to the tough love (as we called it in the 70s) requirement. My pain is real, I love this animal, but what is my pain to hers — nothing. I have been fortunate and blessed that of five children (four sons and one step-daughter), they’re all well, healthy and successful. One son was on this same path in high school but God’s providence allowed him to meet a young lady (on the same path as well) and in their meeting and joining they changed their path, part of which was in giving their lives’ to Christ. Now they’ve been married 5 years, have successful careers, are integral to their church’s growth, and have a lovely home and we are hoping they’ll become parents and pass their love on to those children.
But, how do I express my pain for my friend when I haven’t had to make that choice with a child? Our children are our love personified and when they hurt we hurt, but when the seem to want to hurt, how do we take that away? Can we heal them or must we let nature take it’s course? We can only do so much for them and then it’s up to them. My friend has fought this addiction for her child and I’m sure she feels she has failed, but she hasn’t, she’s loved, supported and sacrificed to save her and the child doesn’t want saving. The problem is the child has not fought the addiction — the child has failed, not the mother. So, as I sit here worried for my wife and the pain to come for our loss of a loved furrkid, my pain is nowhere in the same realm that my friend is experiencing at this same moment.
I pray that God will intervene and save this child as he intervened and saved mine, but the child has to allow that option — she has to recognize the rescue when it shows itself–it is solely up to her. My friend should and will, I’m sure, continue to pray, as I will for her strength, and continue the love for her daughter she shows by closing the doors.
UPDATE (138 PM cdt): From my friend:
After a couple nights in her car, [Xxx] managed to get into a rehab. First she has to go to a detox facility, then to the rehab. This will be her third time in rehab. Maybe the third time will be the charm?
It does seem that tough love works, as does God’s will; perhaps He has gotten her attention. kb