Spinning, Spinning, Spinning

When I first met Aaron, I knew immediately that his cancer was much more advanced then he was describing to me and his desire to continue treatment was stronger than his physical ability to tolerate the treatments.  His physician had left the decisions up to Aaron and his wife, Sylvia.  We spent several weeks just trying to control his symptoms so that he could leave their home for chemotherapy to no avail; Aaron was slipping away from us despite his wishes. 

  

Sylvia was wearing down too.  She was trying to balance their financial needs by working six days a week to keep the family business running, to care for her very ill husband and to be a mommy to their five year old daughter, Alyssa.  Sylvia was a very private person and was trying to handle everything on her own. 

My visits to their home were chaotic; trying to assess Aaron’s needs, teach both Sylvia and Aaron how to meet these needs while being an audience to Alyssa’s post-school day tales.  She had so much to share!  It was at their request I visit at that time of day, as it was the only break Sylvia got from her duties outside the home until the store closed later in the evening. 

Alyssa dearly loved her father and wanted Aaron to be the daddy she knew, but he couldn’t be that playful, attentive father any longer.  He hurt, he was often confused or short tempered, when all Alyssa wanted to do was crawl up onto her father’s lap and pour out her stories.  

As the holidays approached, Sylvia’s days became even more frenzied:  school activities, family holiday shopping, and traditions increased and she wanted to do it all for her husband and daughter.  I was privy to the special dress Alyssa would wear for the holiday, as she twirled around her father’s room demonstrating to us all.  I listened to the song she would sing as Aaron tried in vain to watch and listen but the pain medication was taking effect. Alyssa so badly wanted him to watch her that her spinning and singing got faster and louder.  Sylvia stood close by trying not to allow her daughter to see her tears.  

 

It was at this point, after many discussions concerning their family needs, that Sylvia finally acknowledged that she needed to allow more family into their lives for everyone's sake. She had to learn to ask for help and to allow others to enter their special private world.  Aaron’s family was more than willing to come and provide after-school and holiday activities for Alyssa.  On one visit, I found Alyssa covered with cookie dough and proudly displaying holiday decorations she had prepared with the help of Aaron's family.  Sylvia appeared more relaxed, and her attentions were not so sorely divided. Aaron was comfortable and able to enjoy his time with his daughter without the frenzy that often occurred when Sylvia was trying to maintain that delicate balance.

 

They were able to celebrate this last holiday together in their home, making sweet memories made for Alyssa and the entire family to carry into the future.