Lesson Two

The very day Xavier was born, he began teaching me. As I stated, his first lesson taught me to understand that, given enough time, the hardest thing that I am being faced with can in-fact become the very thing that I wished I had throughout all eternity.

Before he came, I attempted to live my life as best I could. I committed my life to the Lord and I wanted more for me and my family. I did not want to continue living a mediocre life just existing from day to day. I did not have the answers that would cause me to live on the other side of basic; however.

As I felt his grip for the very first time, something came alive in me. Something that I never knew I needed. He was only 2 pounds and 14 ounces. We were able to hold his entire body in the middle of our hands and for several days we could only view him from afar. With tubes running everywhere, I reached into the incubator and I put my pinky into his frail palm and almost to my disbelief but also to my delight, he clutched it ever so gently. This move, this slow perhaps reactionary move, caused hope to spring alive in me. It was as if Xavier said, “grandma, I’m here and don’t count me out. I’m fighting grandma, I’m fighting to live.” I connected to him as I believe he connected to me. Thirty-seven years earlier, I myself was lying where he lay. I did not have his challenges, I had my own. Born premature, the first child of three to my parents to actually make it that far, I had to fight then as he was fighting now just to breathe.   
I left the hospital with more questions than I had when I went in. How do I now go back to yesterday and view it as I always had? How do I repair what was still broken from the results of my past? How do I bridge the gaps of generational divides? From this encounter, I somehow had been changed. I knew I had to pick up the pieces. I knew I had to mend what low self-esteem and insignificancy attempted to rob. I had to grasp hold to what I thought I would never really have. I had to declare that we all would be better than what we had ever been before. I had to learn how to fight, not from without but from within. I had to learn to breathe.

This is the second lesson that my grandson taught me: Life does not always give you what you expect but at no time is that an excuse not to push through what hurts. It is now required that I push through the pain and fight for what belongs to and for me. I have to fight for my dignity and fight for my self-respect. I must fight to mend fences and make wrongs right. It is necessary to fight to inhale, fight to exhale, fight to live, and learn how to breathe. It becomes more than just breathing in and exhaling out. It is the fortitude on the inside that goes against the doctor’s diagnoses. It is the strength to move through the tubs, and it is the courage to grasp another person’s hand when I do not even understand the world around me. It is taking the day as it has been given to me and not giving up until I mastered it instead of it mastering me. It is as I said before, learning how to breathe.... If you're reading this, what is required for me, just might be required for you also.