About 99% of the time, I forget that Michael only has one hand. Then, when I'm totally not expecting it, something is said, or done, or seen, that reminds me of that fact.
Then I want to just hit something. HARD.There is no justice in a world where my sweet son has to struggle so much, every day. He hardly ever mentions it.
So we were in Walmart yesterday picking up a few things, and we were in electronics. The speakers on my computer died and I asked Mike if he wanted to buy me some for Christmas, his gift to me.
I had just finished scrabbling through the bins of $5 DVDs and we were slowly walking towards pet supplies to buy some piddle pads for Coco. I looked at all the computers and games and gadgets.
"If you had an unlimited amount of money and could buy anything in this area of the store, what would you buy?" I asked Michael.
"I would like to buy a game console," he said, nodding at an X-Box, "but I can't really use the controls."
Most videogame things like X-Box really aren't for people with only one hand.
I wanted to cry.
There's nothing to be done about it. He has a prosthetic. All he can do with it is grasp, though. I watched him zip up the front of his hoodie yesterday and was glad he had it, but it's really not enough.
I was thinking just the other day, I don't really want any material thing for Christmas. I so want to see my daughter, because it's been 18 months and she's already missed one Christmas at home. (It's doubtful her controlling boyfriend will allow her to come for a visit this year, either. I just have to pray...)
Last night I had an even more unreasonable request: to see Michael with two real hands.
Maybe one day, years from now, I will see him with two hands, if technology advances enough.
Mother is in pain a lot, due to the edema in her legs. It's also hard for her to walk, or to sleep at night. We hope the bandages will come off before Christmas but there's no way to know.
This is why Christmas is an effort this year, a huge effort, to be cheerful, because I am reminded so often of why it is hard for so many people I love...
My brother and Michael, 2010.
