She’s back! In true to Mary fashion she is as stylish as ever. Ever the dramatic celebrity-in-training, she bursts through the door shouting, “I’m here!” Photos are snapped, even though Dad and Mom are a poor substitute for real paparazzi.
She bounds up the stairs, two at time. “I’m coming for you, Mama! I’m here!!!” She has promised me during our last phone chat that I may squish her and kiss her and squeeze her for 60 full seconds. Luke feigns starting his iPhone timer and I attack! I hug and I squish and kiss her cheeks and her head and her hands and even her stinky little feet. My Mary is home!!! She rolls her eyes in mock annoyance but then offers me another full minute, “if I need it.” I do.
I look into her eyes and it’s all I need to see that Mary is back, really back, mentally and physically. I don’t mean that she is “cured.” Not by a long shot.There is no such thing. What I mean is that she is stable and safe. She has switched over to a new medication altogether, and she should be at the therapeutic dose. She’s had a lot of therapy.
She is ready to be home with us. I am choking back tears looking at my daughter’s face after 2 weeks away from us. After all the medication adjustments, the family therapy sessions (I had to FaceTime in), all the paperwork, our family is together again.
This is my chance to shower her with all the love and delight she deserves. She immediately sets about showing me all of the work she’s completed at the hospital. She got school work, and an anger thermometer with coping skills. She’s made these type of rating scales a million times over the last several years. She really wants to show me how ready she is to be here. I am so proud of her that I say it in 3 different voices and burst into spontaneous, ridiculous song. She beams
The next day is Saturday, and she begins the day with her trauma therapist. (Bless this amazing therapist for seeing my child on Saturdays!!!) Everyone is ready for her routine to resume. Her Partial Hospitalization afternoon program will resume on Monday. Her school is ready and notified, and we’ve had a meeting to discuss a safety plan (if necessary.)
She spends the weekend cuddling me, cuddling her dad, and attempting some “team work” with Carl. He is pretty upset that she is home. Not because he doesn’t love his sister. It’s just hard to share the attention again. It triggers his fear that their won’t be enough love to go around. That his caregivers might get so caught up in Mary we leave him in dire straits.
You don’t have to be perfect, honey. Just be here. Be my Mary.
**Names have been changed to protect the privacy of those involved.