With all that’s going on in the world around us, the word "freedom" is at the forefront of our minds and of our discussions. If you look up the word freedom, you’ll find many definitions. Many who are discussing it now are referring to communist Russia’s invasion of Ukraine and losing the freedom they’ve had for thirty years. In that sense it means the absence of subjection to foreign domination or despotic government. That kind of freedom is unquestionably the most important to anyone living here or in any free country. Pray for the people there.
Think about what freedom means to you. With its broad definition, it can mean many different things to different people. It’s what I’ve been pondering lately, and I’m sharing at the Window today.
Since having been diagnosed with Multiple Sclerosis, I’ve shared information about my journey. One of the most personal ones I feel is a lack of freedom. Not exactly like the definition meaning not being imprisoned or enslaved, but I do feel imprisoned in my own body. Many would call that a selfish thought. Yet there are definitely things I can no longer do, so I can’t do whatever I want any more, like the teenager said.
Having a chronic disease like this has forced me to accept the limitations on my independence, but that doesn’t mean I like it. There are freedoms that aren’t often questioned until something like this comes at you head-on. Driving was the hardest thing I was told I had to give up. Driving a car gives a feeling of independence and freedom and is a part of learning to take care of yourself. I was in denial that I had to give it up at first, but I was convinced by others that it was for the best, and there’s no way around it. Due to the lesions on my spine, I have little feeling in my right foot and ankle. The entire leg is weak, forcing my left leg to compensate. In addition, cognitive issues not only make driving unsafe for me, but for others. The lesions I had in my brain can randomly get overstimulated. Especially at night, traffic lights, headlights, and rain cause me to get anxiety now, something that didn’t bother me before MS. I can’t think clearly, my eyes lose focus. Both of these symptoms hamper my reaction time. It all becomes a chain reaction of events that mean no driving for me. I still miss this freedom. I have to ask my family or friends to take me wherever I go.
I remember when I complained daily about my job. Truth is, I loved working and miss it terribly. It was another piece of being able to take care of myself. It was rewarding to be able to work hard to be successful, be with people and engage every day, and share my job experience with those around me. It provided financial stability, giving me freedom to give to others, something I miss.
I’ve brought to the Window my love for theater. It’s been more than a hobby for me for half my life. I didn’t want to give it up, even some of it. I’m not free to act on stage due to my physical limitations. It was how my love for theater began. I used to work on the set when I was in a production. I can’t do a lot of that kind of work, either. I can still be involved in directing, but even then, I rely on my assistants more than I used to. I lost part of my creative freedom.
I have to depend on others much more than ever before. Think about who you would turn to. It may be what I’ve fought the hardest. I’ve said I hate it, I won’t do it, it isn’t fair, I don’t need help. Yet what I’ve learned from those who do help me is that they want to do it. They don’t hate it or think it isn’t unfair. They are happy to help. I was talking to my son about paying someone to paint my kitchen cabinets, because I couldn’t do it myself. He told me he would do it. He would buy the paint and accessories, and he wanted to do it because he wanted to help. My cabinets look brand new! And, my husband helps take care of me, as well as care for his ailing mom in her home. He is giving up some of his own freedom. Yet he wants to help us.
I asked you earlier to think about what freedom means to you. Also think about who you could turn to if you lost freedoms. I’ve learned that any kind of freedom that is challenged is met with people who want to help. Don’t be ashamed or afraid to ask. I have to think about that whenever I feel imprisoned. It sets me free.
Thanks to Liz for letting me share today at her Window. Please pray for Ukraine’s freedom – they need our help.
~*~
Being the oldest at 10 years old, she knew she’d have to console her little brother, JJ, all the way to school. She told him a fib. She told him she found out that Mama and Daddy were both at work. It seemed to appease him. The two started their eight-block walk to school. Vanessa wanted to just forget. She wanted JJ to forget too. By the time school let out, he will have, but not her. Mama never would have left them alone. And it had been a doozy of a fight. No, she wouldn't forget after what she had seen. A large pool of blood on the patio. Bigger than the ones inside.
Verdicts and Vows - Book 2 - 10 years later
“Well, sis. Best I just say it. Dad...Ben, got early release. He got out yesterday. He hasn’t contacted me, but the correctional facility called my number to set up his probation appointment, so I assume I will see him soon. I’m not sure where he is. But…” Jason stopped when Vanessa abruptly ran out of the room. “Ness, what are you doing? Vanessa!” Jason yelled, but she had exited into the stairwell.
“Jason, what happened? Why did she take off like that?” Vanessa's husband, Joe, asked.
Jason told Joe about their dad, Ben. His sentence had four months left. Now it made sense. Joe didn’t think he’d heard Vanessa mention Ben since the family dinner at Nana’s all those years ago, when she disclosed to everyone that she had seen him strangle their mother in a drunk rage when she was ten, hiding in a closet with Jason. Their mother died the next day.
Coming in late May, Verve and Virtue - Book 3 - 20 more years later
He began to explain going to talk to Dr. Bashar asking her to check into Ella’s case again. While he was in prison, he read that new DNA evidence was proving more and more useful in solving crimes and determining autopsy results. He tearfully told his children that being locked up, all he had was time to think. Knowing that Vanessa held him responsible for their Mama’s death was what weighed on him the most. He said he knew in his heart of hearts he would never have done anything to hurt Ella, no matter how mad he was, or she was. He thought it was worth a shot to have Dr. Bashar check.
Then Ben told them. Their mother had a disease she didn’t even know she had. She inherited it from their Papaw Tim, who also didn’t know he had it. No one did until he passed away and an autopsy was done. It was Ellers-Danlos syndrome, a disease of the connective tissue in the brain. It is what caused the aneurysm that led to her death. If she hadn’t died then, she would have died soon because the disease had built up a blood clot. He didn’t cause his Ella to die.
The only person who didn’t react much was Vanessa. She was skeptical, but afraid too. She watched Ben…her dad. He must have believed he was responsible too. She knew something did happen in that kitchen all those years ago, while she and Jason hid in the closet. She still wanted to keep pushing him to remember how her Mama ended up bleeding and unconscious on the patio. It may have been an aneurysm or mystery disease that she died from, but it didn’t explain her being battered by her drunk husband, Ben.
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