Jack and Emily Simmons

The road to hell, good intentions… blah blah blah. I had a lot of things I needed maintain, even get ahead on over the next several months because I have a book that I’m committed to finish by the end of the year. There are blogs that need to be written and set aside for future use. Social media is a time hog! Not only is there posting of my own thoughts, stories and information, but then there is the finding and posting of other information. One of my main jobs is to get the best information and postings out to people, whether or not they are my own. Success in blogging is all about networking, as I learned the hard way over the past year. It takes a lot of time on other people’s blogs and social media in order to be successful. So, with that in mind, I resolved to compartmentalize my time so that I neglected no ball in the juggling act. I wasn’t too rigid to move things around when they needed to be moved, but the goals I set would make me stretch a little, while still being attainable. More importantly, they would keep me on schedule to accomplish bigger goals by the end of the year.

I held on for a full three weeks. I know. Not too impressive. Then yesterday morning arrived. It all started off fine. I was moving along quite well, in fact. I was running behind, but a ten hour day would have gotten me back on track to stay in line with my resolution. That’s not a big deal. Most serious bloggers would call me a sissy for whining about a ten hour day. Anyway, words of wisdom were spewing from my mind and onto the computer screen with eloquence and rapidity (a rare day in the life of a blogger/author). Then the phone rang.

Emily had refused to get out of bed and my assistance was needed. My daughter was fifteen when she left Russia to join our family and rejoin biological sisters we adopted before learning of her. Emily’s early life had been a true horror story and she had the emotional and psychological scars to prove it. That daughter lived in our home for just over a year before it proved necessary to have her institutionalized to protect herself and the rest of the family. Never-the-less, we have remained very active in our Emily’s life. She has even advanced to the point where she has been able to move beyond lock-down institutionalized care, to a family type setting in a group home. She is also able to visit in our home, now, and we have been able to help her to reestablish healthy relationships with siblings that at one point associated her name with nothing but terror. It has been a long and difficult road, but the most rewarding roads always are. Still, there are days when Emily’s emotional and psychological scar tissue get in the way. Yesterday was one of those days.

I was faced with a choice between my goal and my priorities.

I made the hour-long drive to the group home where she lives and asked her to go to lunch with me. She was concerned about being in trouble for various (relatively minor) infractions, but she decided that we could go together. As we sat and ate tacos, we talked about how far she had come. She cried when I spoke of the consequences that would need to happen (all things that can be worked out short-term). But she thanked me for coming to see her and to help her. She told me she was alright, and that I could return her and go back to work. My mind jumped for joy. I could still make my goal and keep my resolution. Then as I looked closely, I knew that while she would be fine if I did what she suggested, really, my daughter needed more of my time.

I was faced with a choice between my goal and my priorities. You’re right. That isn’t a choice. Emily and I walked around a department store and picked up several things she has been needing. We talked about silly things and we made word-play jokes. We walked together with my arm around her and hers around me. And when I saw that my strong daughter, my happy daughter, my real daughter was back, I took her to where she needed to be, hugged her, told her I loved her, and promised to see her soon.

I’m a little discouraged that I didn’t hold to my resolution with perfection, but even happier that my priorities didn’t change because of it. And I have to tell you… yesterday was a good day.