May 04, 2013

In the moment

I just realized something, about Segev, about our moments together. It came as a soft call, like a voice amongst the trees, that Segev knows he is loved. It came at a moment when he woke with a seizure, as he always does. Whenever he transitions from sleep to wakefulness, and often the other way around, when descending into deeper sleep, he has seizures. For years I believed that like his many other fits, with this seizure he was not conscious, until he started to move his locked eyes to and fro. That was always the signal.
I know about the different types of seizures, where a person has conscious knowledge of the experience. But over the years, and only quite recently, have I begun to understand that at some point, even before he regains control, while he is still thrashing about in rhythmical jerks and forced expulsion of air between clenched teeth, he is becoming aware.
For a few years now I have been talking to him during this, from the first moment the seizure grips him, “Hey, Segev, hi” I always begin. “You’re having a seizure, waking up. You were sleeping and now you woke up with a seizure”, I say to him.
Then that moment came when I thought, perhaps he can already hear me, and I try to give him reassurance that all is well. Of course most of this reassurance is for me. He knows nothing else. It has always been this way for him, waking with a seizure, it is quite normal and thus nothing to get excited about. I hold his flailing arms, not to control them, I move with him, just as one does in T’ai Chi “pushing hands” exercise. I go with his movement, but slightly, lightly direct them so that he does not injure himself, does not scratch his face or eyes, bang his arms against the armrests of his chair.
I see something in his eyes, a recognition as I softly tell him that I am there, that I am kissing him, that I missed him while he slept. Wishful thinking? But it struck me so hard, not with that yearning feeling, that near exasperation, “I hope he can hear me!”, feel that I am there, but rather; here we are Segev, you and I, together. That’s all there is at that moment, nothing more and nothing less. Because there was always more. I wanted to do more, for his wellbeing, his comfort, but it’s alright, we are just there, together. And there is no less, not enough; not enough connection, communication. There is just being there and passing the moment, with him knowing and with me knowing, that this is love.


  1. Elizabeth Aquino 6:48 AM - said:
    This is one of the most beautiful moments that you've ever written, Eric, and you've written many moments. Thank you for sharing it with us.

  2. I had turned on Google+ comments on the blog, not aware of the fact that this no longer allows other comments! Very deceiving on the part of Google! Hopefully now people can comment again, or is no one reading!?

  3. Reading! :) Lovely post.

    The google+ commenting was a bit odd.

  4. That awareness, it's like coming home, isn't it? Welcome home.

    1. That's a lovely way of putting it Claire. I suppose that giving in to fear and worry would be the equivalent of running away from home.

  5. Love in action, thought and word. Beautiful.

    I found your from Elizabeth.

  6. An awesome experience; hope these moments of love get stronger, more powerful and more healing!

  7. I love the detail of moving with Segev's arms...