Showing posts with label Hopeless. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Hopeless. Show all posts

Friday, May 13, 2011

Opposing Aura's


The ghostly figures represent Riley and myself in a biofeedback system.  Strangely Riley and I have completely opposite aura's.  The differences were patiently explained to me at Integrity Biofeedback.  My takeaway is how the difference in our acceptance of God.  Lavender, in the biofeed representation, represents the divine presence.  My aura shows God surrounding me and trying to enter.  Riley has accepted God and is scene within him.  Below is Riley's aura first and then mine.

I have a long way to go on this journey.

Brenda and Sharron of Integrity Biofeedback have been a very important part of this journey.  When we allowed PIC/HopeHospice into our lives we were blessed with the wonderful presence of Mrs. Lucy.  As a hospice volunteer, Mrs. Lucy made regular visits to our home to take Riley out of our arms for a short while.  She in turn introduced us to Brenda and Sharron.  These engaging women offered to help relieve the frequent and difficult seizures Riley was suffering at the time through quantum feedback.   They discovered very quickly upon entering our home a profound sense of hopelessness.  Truly, at that time no one within proximity could miss it.  They however, made it their mission to aid us in our recovery.
Regular visits to their office have been a very large part of our recovery and self discovery.  I am so grateful for all of them; Lucy, Sharron and Brenda.  We have come a very long way and they are a very large part of our journey of healing.

We are all special... by Stacie Wiesenbaugh

Friday, May 6, 2011

Above the Clouds

Our phone finally rang at 8 pm and I picked up to Ronan exclaiming "I flew in an aeroplane above the clouds!"  His enthusiasm had only increased since his arrival at the cousins' home in New Hampshire.   My mother has given him a wonderful gift in being able to connect with his cousins and share in the family event.  I am so grateful that he can have this interaction even though we cannot provide it ourselves.
After the call, I continued to hold Riley in my arms.  But Riley was different.  He kept looking up at me expectantly.  Looking up into my face and maintaining a gaze is not so easy for him.  Riley's eyes have been damaged along with the rest of his body.  He has optic nerve atrophy and neurological vision impairment which both make it difficult for him to see my face very well.  But he kept watching me and when he knew I watched back, he smiled slightly and held it. 

This communication is miraculous!  Connecting with Riley is an amazing event.  Yes, I do it every day.  It's not the connection I can make with his brother: simple, immediate, easy.  Connecting with Riley is challenging and amazing when it happens.   It is almost as if Riley himself is somewhere "above the clouds."  He is close.  He is elusive.  I know he is in there and I am rewarded by the brief moments I can really "see" him.  At this moment I could really "see" him.  This gaze had a purpose and I called John's attention to it.  Riley's condition makes it very difficult to connect in this way... it was a huge effort.  What was he trying to say?  I saw in his face: I know you, I love you, I need some understanding.  He was questioning too. 

John knew what it was.  "Where is my brother?" 

You know your brother is missing this evening?  We could not explain to him where Ronan was and how long he would be gone.  Nonetheless, Riley was asking: "Where is my brother?"

The moment completely overwhelmed us.  John wondered at how much Riley is truly taking in even though he cannot speak.  How should a parent feel with this discovery.  Once again I felt the tears in my eyes.  Yes, we make the discovery now and then and each time it is hard to take.  This must sound strange!  The more he takes in the more heartbroken are his parents that he is trapped inside his body.  How do we ever find peace with this knowledge?

Are there any other parents with answers to this?  Please do share!

We are all special.... by Stacie Wiesenbaugh