Wednesday, July 21, 2010

The feeling of helplessness

This morning at 6 I woke up and went to the bathroom in our hospital room. Afterwards I went to check on Eli who was sleeping peacefully in his little bed. I stood there for a minute debating wether to disturb him from his contentment just so I can hold him in the quiet morning. I finally decided that I would sleep until 8 and then get up and still have dad and son time before his surgery.
At 7:40 Kati and I were abruptly woken up by Eli's nurse saying everything was fine but they were moving up Eli's surgery to 8. Sorry buddy no time for us now. We will have to reschedule. 
As Kati and I franticly run around the room trying to get dressed and spend the few minutes that we have with Eli it starts to settle in.
Before Eli was born I struggled with connecting with him. When Kati was pregnant with Maggie I would talk to her belly, sing to her, pray for her and so on. With Eli I barely did any of that. I talked to a close friend about it who understood. He had told me that it is a natural feeling to guard myself from connecting and loving because of wanting to avoid any pain it may bring in the future but at some point I will be so overwhelmed with love for him that I won't be able to deny Eli of it. Man he was right. From the moment that I saw him I have been like that proud dad dreaming about baseball games together, learning how to surf and teaching him how to snowboard (or him teaching his old man) and of course teaching him the ways of a musician. 
Ever since he was born I have been in a state of something. Several have said it was faith, I seem to believe it is denial. He has looked so perfect and done so well. There is a bible verse that says, "man looks at the outward appearance but God looks at the heart." I had fallen for it. I looked at the outside and have believed he was perfect but inside he was broken. And so am I.
Reality hit me this morning. As they wheeled him away and Kati and I stood there I had this sense of helplessness. Not the helplessness that you feel when passing a homeless person on the street but the helplessness that you feel when you have held and touched and kissed someone and then have to let them go. My sense of hope is that he is in amazing and capable hands. His surgeons, doctors and nurses have been amazing with Kati and I and so we are grateful for that.
In the meantime we wait and pray and pace and pray that all goes well and that one day Eli and I will be hitting the slopes together. 


  1. so honest and so real...thank you for such vulnerbility.
    Can't wait for Eli and Jett to school us on the slopes.


  2. I am just now reading this blog for the first time. Wow, Israel. Heavy stuff.

    Love you so much man!! I can't wait to see you and your sweet family again someday soon...

    And I'm glad to hear you're still making music. :)