Their marriage had been rocky at the time of the accident, and though she wants to do the right thing, Rachel doesn’t know how she is supposed to care for two kids in addition to a now irrational, incontinent, and seizure-prone grown man. And how will she manage to see her lover? But then again, what kind of selfish monster would refuse to care for her disabled husband, no matter how unhappy her marriage had been? Rachel wants to believe that she can dedicate her life to David’s needs, but knows in her heart it is impossible.
Crash tackles a pervasive dilemma in our culture: the moral conflicts individuals face when caregiving for a disabled or cognitively impaired family member.
BarnesandNoble
Indiebound
But everything in Rachel's life came to a screeching halt when her husband was in a terrible plane crash which resulted in him having extensive brain and spinal damage. After spending weeks in the ICU and months after that in the hospital, Rachel had to decide if she was ready to take on full time care of a husband who was no longer the same man that she married.
This is the kind of decision that many of us dread and that would be difficult for anyone, but it is also the kind of decision that many people must make every single day. After all, illnesses and accidents don't care how your marriage is going or whether you are capable of dealing with them physically, mentally, and emotionally.
Rachel seems like a strong person and she is lucky to have the love of her children and family, as I'm sure many of us would be during a time like this. Though David changed quite a bit mentally after the accident, it was nice to see at times that there was still a connection between them and that Rachel did still want the best for him.
This memoir has a lot of intriguing things to say about love, marriages and life in general and I would recommend it to anyone that likes a powerful story.
I, for one, will be thinking about this one for a while.
Whenever
I ask, Learning Services brings David home to San Jose. Sometimes friends join
us, especially Karen and Alex whose children are close to Hannah and Joshie. We
sit in the backyard, drink wine, watch the kids on the play structure that
David assembled when he could still follow instructions safely. Sometimes Alex
takes David inside ostensibly to play video games, but Karen and I know they’re
going out front to smoke cigarettes. We shoot hoops or try to play ping-pong.
David is agitated when he misses the ball—and when the kids misbehave, which is
frequently.
David
is particularly impatient with his son. Joshie’s repetitive behaviors irritate
him.
“Look!
Watch me going down the slide!”Joshie calls for the tenth (or twentieth) time.
He constantly craves adult attention.
“I
don’t care,” David yells back.
Joshie
looks stricken. He runs into the house, not wanting the other kids to see the
tears streaming down his face.
“David,
you need to be nicer to your son,” I admonish—as if it will make a difference.
I head after Joshie—he’ll be tough to console. I can’t remember if David was
harder on Joshie than Hannah before the accident. Most fathers do have higher
standards for their sons. But David’s unfiltered put-downs are devastating.
I
find him on his bed, face buried in his pillow. “Why is Daddy so nasty?” he
whimpers.
I
sit down next to him and stroke his back. “Daddy doesn’t mean it that way.
Remember what I told you? His brain just doesn’t know how to be nice
sometimes.” Joshie turns over to look at me, sniffles. I wipe some tears from
his cheek with my thumb. “He really loves you.”
From
the look on Joshie’s face, I’m not sure he believes me.
******
One
evening when I’m slicing tomatoes for our dinner salad, I notice that that the
car is not in the driveway.
“Where’s
Daddy?” I ask Joshie, smiling too brightly. Hide the fear.
“Dunno.
I think he drove somewhere,” Joshie says, carefully arranging his new
obsession—Pokémon cards—on the floor.
“David?”
I call. No answer. I run to my purse. The car keys are gone. Fuck. I
dash into the street. Thank God our Nissan Murano is parked at the curb a few
driveways down. Joe from next door is talking with David who is in the driver’s
seat.
“David
says he wants to go play pool with Stuart.” Joe is trying to pretend that it’s
normal for a brain-injured man to drive around the neighborhood.
“Thanks,
Joe.” I give him one of those grateful forced smiles I’ve perfected, the one
that also says, “This really sucks, doesn’t it?” “Hey David, slide over.
I’ll drive us home and you can help me wash lettuce.”
David
doesn’t resist. He grimaces as he slides into the passenger seat. The shattered
vertebrae in his low back still cause him constant pain.
I
catch Joe’s look of pity as he watches me make the U-turn back to our house.
Copyright © 2021, Rachel
Michelberg
When Rachel isn’t working with one of her twenty voice and piano students, she loves gardening, hiking, and making her own bone broth. CRASH: How I Became a Reluctant Caregiver is her first book.
Website: https://www.rachelmauthor.com/
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/RachelMAuthor/
Twitter: https://twitter.com/RMichelberg
Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/rachelmichelbergauthor/
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