The Need to Fix

It's a man's natural tendency; and  fatherhood brings it out on a daily basis, often time several times a day (or night).  Maybe it's something in our genetic make-up.  Maybe it's something that society has instilled in us.  Perhaps it fulfills an emotional need which, in turn, brings us closer to those we love; those we care about; those in our life.

It's the need to fix.  If your child loses something there's a certain satisfaction in finding it for them when it seemed hopeless.  When something breaks around the house, out comes the toolbox, the tape (often times it's duct tape), or the hammer (hammers fix everything!).  When finances prove to be a challenge, manipulating numbers and figuring it out is the order of the day.  When someone you love gets sick, the need to care for them, comfort them, and be with them until they are better resonates.

A father's place in the family can be precarious at times.  Balancing the societal expectation of being a "man's man" alongside being the "new-age, modern, sensitive" guy.  Each has its place and rewards. Within both realms the "need to fix" remains intact.

When a situation presents itself that cannot be fixed such as the toy being lost and gone forever, the broken household item that is beyond the scope of repair, or the ends not quite meeting for a particular month, we as men, who "need to fix", resort to "Plan B" or "Plan C". 

With "Plan B" we figure out a way to get outside help. By doing this we feel in control of who we seek out.  When we utilize "Plan C" we come up with an explanation that allows us to keep our pride intact.  Either one can be used, sometimes simultaneously.  In the end we have maintained our dignity and still feel that we "fixed" it.

Having a child with a terminal illness that has no treatments or a cure presents the ultimate "need to fix" feelings.

At first, one takes in the situation and finds a way to "come to terms" with the diagnosis.  We learn everything we can about the disease.  We take a deep breath and redefine who we are as a father, a husband.

Time passes.  The disease does not.  It's relentless in how it presents itself in our children.  Watching your child slowly deteriorate chips away at your sense of permanence, your sense of life itself.  The "need to fix" grows stronger. It's akin to fighting an uphill battle, getting one step forward while being knocked two back.  

Our sense of "fixing" gets distorted.  It becomes a challenge to maintain the equilibrium between the "need" and the "outcome"; for the outcome seems so distant.  We procure equipment...the disease remains.  We modify living spaces...the disease remains.  We adapt toys, games, lifestyle...the disease still remains.  While these "fixes" solve a problem for our child and our family, they do not fix the SMA...which hauntingly becomes the ultimate "fix".

Time passes.  We trudge on, "fixing" what we can and accepting that which cannot be made whole.  We are tested by the internal barometer which measures our participatory role in the family.  Fatherhood takes on a whole new meaning when your child faces a disease such as SMA.  

We face it with our child.  We take a hold of their hand, gaze into their eyes, and see the beautiful person they are.  We keep them safe as we hold them with a gentle tightness.  We come to understand that "fixing" this may not necessarily be physical in nature, although that is part of it. We learn over time that our presence in the life of our child is what we are called to experience.

The frustration that accompanies this disease for those afflicted with it are enormous.  The ability to overcome these frustrations and love their own life is nothing short of admirable.  Imagine learning new physical skills and losing them over time. Imagine having to rely on machines to keep you alive.  Imagine having a terminal illness.

When one stops and thinks about it, one realizes that the "need to fix" is more about the "need to attend".  Attend to the needs of your child.  Attend to the needs of your spouse.  Attend to the needs of your other children (if you have them).  Attend to the needs of yourself.

There will be plenty of opportunity in a lifetime to "fix" things.  Some things in life are quite "fixable".  Some things are not.  Some things in life call us to attend rather than fix.  

For me, I am embarking on a new chapter of how I define myself in terms of SMA.  

I must attend.