Friday, February 9, 2018

Waiting on the All Clear: some things matter more than others

This is not really a column about football, I assure you, but my beloved Philadelphia Eagles won the Super Bowl recently.  My family and I enjoyed every minute of it, all season long.  We watched and waited and cheered and groaned and for much of the last few months, it was a huge deal in our lives. 



And it is a huge deal. I’ve been living and dying with the team for over 40 years.  I’ve infected my children with the burden of being a Philadelphia Sports fan, and there’s a lot about the shared experience that we have really enjoyed.  It’s allowed us to share a level of continuity with my parents and grandparents, who are no longer with us, but were very much there in spirit this month when the Eagles FINALLY won a Championship for the first time since 1960. 



We watched the games, sitting in the same positions, with the dog to my direct left, Bud the Dinosaur on the small couch, Pengy and his Eagles scarf, with Boyo sitting in his spot, me in mine, and so on.  We were very driven by mojo…and it seemed to keep working, so we went with it.  I wore the same shirts all season.  In the days leading up to the Super Bowl, I was excited and confident.  Those are not the usual emotions of an Eagles fan, and that itself made me a little uncomfortable.  I didn’t know how to feel and many of my fellow fans felt the same way. I was never really worried.  I didn’t know why at the time, but I do now.



Watching the game itself was intense and occasionally stressful.  When we got to the end, I felt like we had a real shot.  When it was over, there was an outpouring of emotion.  It made me miss my parents and grateful that I got to share the ride with my children. 



In the days following, I couldn’t stop watching the highlights.  Every time that last pass is flying through the air, I still worry that Gronk is going to come down with it.  I feel relief every time.  We ordered all sorts of new Super Bowl swag.  I went to the parade in Philadelphia yesterday and it was an amazing experience.  I’ll tell that story another time, because as important as the Eagles victory is, as transcendent as it is for a rabidly loyal and frustrated fan base, as big of a Sea Change as it is for us all, as big of a shift away from “Nega-delphia” as this cathartic victory may be; it’s not the biggest thing going on in my life right now.



My daughter is currently in surgery as I write this.  She has scoliosis that we’ve been treating for several years now.  It progressed to the point that surgery was necessary.  The operation was scheduled months ago, and there have been tests and scans and other things to get ready for.  And then there was our lives, and lots of other distractions.  The Eagles amazing season was a very welcome one at that, but once the game was over and the euphoria wore off, the next big thing for all of us to look forward to was a major operation and months of convalescence and healing. 



So, as I write this sitting in the waiting room, I’m reminded of a discussion I had after the Super Bowl.  Someone asked if it had sunk in yet that they’d won and I’d said, “Not really,” as at that moment, it felt like it hadn’t.  It felt a little surreal, but I found in the days to come, I didn’t have the same level of emotion about the whole thing.  I thought going to the parade would make it more “real” for me, and in many ways, it has.  Seeing the team and the trophy and celebrating with all of my crazy brethren was truly satisfying.  But the truth is, I realize now that the wife and the whole family have been in surgery-mode for the last two months.  While there have been those welcome distractions, Christmas, New Years, time down the shore, football and other sports, some new movies, eating stuff I shouldn’t, getting to my new gym, considering starting a publishing company, time with friends and family ad so on, I realize now we’ve all been in this and I have been locked into Daddy mode preparing myself for this moment right now, where I’m waiting for them to come out and tell me that she’s out of surgery and that everything went well and that she’s going to be ok.



That’s the release I’m waiting on right now.  The last few months have been about getting myself and the family ready for right now.  Making sure everything’s ready at home, ready with the family and our friends, making sure that everything is in place so that I can be here in this moment, because as important as everything else in the world might be, there is simply nothing more important than my children. 



I know that’s true of every parent, but there are gratefully finite moments and circumstances where we are faced with that reality so acutely and be viscerally and gut-punchingly reminded of how much our children matter.  It was pretty emotional for me just now, seeing her in the hospital gown, laying on the bed as they prepared to roll her into the Operating Room, where my status as “Dad” does not afford me a seat.  I held it together and we told fart jokes and she laughed and was smiling as they wheeled the bed away from me.  I’m still holding it together as I’m not allowing my brain to go off into the realm of “complications” or “well, this has never happened before in this surgery” and other such nervous speculation.  Rest assured, growing up in a family very much touched by way-too-early deaths created in me a penchant for leaning towards the hypochondriacal.  To this day, my brain takes me places when I worry that I don’t care for, but I’ve learned to manage it.  I don’t have full-blown panics when a loved one is late to call or arrive when expected, but I could. 



That doesn’t mean I don’t have moments where my mind takes me to the worst possible outcome of relatively innocuous things, but therapy and maturity have helped me manage all that.  That said, the struggle was and remains real, but my role as a parent has seasoned me somewhat.  In the end, the only thing that matters is that within the next few hours, someone is going to tell me that everything went great and that the wife and I can go back and see her.  



That’s when I’ll lose it and I can’t wait.  Everything else, including the Eagles miraculous run, has been a lead up to this, and rest assured, my “game face” is on.  Then the recovery begins, but that’s a whole new thing.  The whole family will be ready, once we get that “All Clear” that I’m waiting on right now. 

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