54. Neighborly Love

We had an alley-like street in the back of our house. Mary and Abbie, a couple in their sixties, often sat on their tiny back porch in the late afternoon. They watched Sean play with the hose on our driveway. We would turn on the hose just a little, so he could watch the water spread down the concrete. It eventually made a puddle at the end of it. Somehow, we figured it was a safe place for Sean to play alone for minutes at a time because the road was seldom traveled. Mr. Abbie brought it to our attention that when cars did come down that alley, they were fast. Thinking back, Sean should have never been unsupervised. Thankfully nothing happened but the what ifs are disturbing to me now. I allowed him to play outside because there was peace and quiet inside. I took my chances. We checked on him very regularly, but Mr. Abbie picked up our slack.

Mary was a support as well. I think she could tell we all were struggling. I'm sure our fights made the bricks shift as well as invite the neighbors to listen in whether they wanted to or not. We could rock it out.

One weekend my husband went out of town on business leaving me with the children for about a week. It was in the summer, so we were together a-l-l d-a-y l-o-n-g. I'm not sure what was up with Sean but he was unusually difficult. It began on Saturday afternoon when I was watching TV. Sean was in my lap in the recliner. I was tickling him and goofing off. We played for awhile until I'd had enough. I tried to  transition him smoothly and redirect him. He kept jumping on me over and over again. I'd hold my arms out to prevent him getting on me, but he kept on. I got up to walk, but he was hanging onto my legs. I'd sit down to hold him some more, but he was jarring his knees into my stomach and laughing. He picked at my hair and face too. This went on for awhile. Finally, I just lost it and everything escalated from there. I couldn't get things settled down completely. Sean was up and down all afternoon.

By this time it was late in the afternoon. Finally, I went to my car that was parked in the driveway, and tossed Sean in it. I stood outside of it, and stared at Mary and Abbie's back door. I prayed with all my heart that Mary would come out. I stared at that door with every bit of belief that it would open. I kept repeating, "Come out, come out, come out." I don't know why I didn't just knock on it. I had not yet learned how to ask for help. The door opened, and Mary came out. I was crying but quiet. I was beaten down and resigned. I took a step toward her to ask if I could talk to her. She came over and listened. She was reassuring and confident in God's will. I was thankful that my prayer was answered but I was not so confident.

The next morning Sean was at it again. I put in an emergency call to Dr. Seals in San Antonio who ultimately increased his Prozac. Even though the medication hadn't had time to take effect, I was relieved that help was on the way. I had a focal point again. We also had an appointment. We went to a nearby city in The Valley to see Dr. Seals at a hospital there. When we got there, they said he had called in sick. I burst into tears and kept saying, "nonononono". I collected myself and walked out with nothing.

Through this I realized that when help was slow to come I had to be prepared to hold on by telling myself that it was coming. I had to learn to ask for help in a timely manner. I had to work on my confidence.