Carey and I moved our family to Senoia on January 28th a year ago. Our home sits back off of the road two hundred feet secluded by the woods. After we had both experienced decades of hurts and disappointments the private escape was what our souls longed for. The environment encouraged further detachment from life as we knew it. In our seclusion layers of pain shed.
We had this small piece of the world to ourselves. After living in a house with a revolving door and no regard for privacy. The isolation was like seeing a long lost friend. The need for a caregiver to relieve Carey remained, but the newly acquired freedom of not worrying about a stranger in the home boldly stealing you blind had to be savored. Since the fall of ’97 I had Medicare funded shower assistance, but the combination of the move and Obamacare that benefit was lost.
The emotional healing evolved over the next several months. The feeling was contagious our guests enjoyed extended visits thoroughly. The refuge seemed to repel those that did not have our best interest at heart or just too much effort to inflict their unwanted presence.
An independence rooted from the healing. Last June while looking out the window and trying to imagine a clever name for our wedding venue concept I saw our hitching post. The concept led to a slow starting reality until the wedding show season initiated in January. Following a few cyber ads and two shows revealing our budget conscious prices lit the website up Don Harris built for The Hitching Post with young couples wanting to book it.
The barn enclosure was a slam-dunk, a no brainer for a naïve boy unaware he was attempting to do the unthinkable in a nanny government county. I even called the barn what it was “a money press” days before the county sent three men out to shut us down. I suppose I was expected to get violent from the wheelchair. Sadly, all I can do now days to protect my family is assault someone’s shins.
After decades of taking so much from others to exist and giving little in return, the realization The Hitching Post was going to meet my family’s financial needs was an indescribable relief. Me, in my useless condition, finally figured out a way to provide, to balance the scale, but of most importance allow Carey to focus on getting well without the burden of my care.
The move also has reduced my efforts to help others less fortunate. My ALS is nothing compared to the disease progression of the majority. I feel compelled to give back for my good fortune. The Hitching Post did create embarrassing arrogance. How? After too many crushing disappointments from others’ I did not want to ask for anything from anyone. I was wrong! A humble spirit is the only way to navigate life.
Wednesday night when Carey cried in pain for three hours I could not even comfort my wife by holding her. I was desperate. I chanced reaching out and was overwhelmed by the goodness in human beings. Thank you Dean, Tim, Richard, and Will. Thank you all that have contributed and all that are spreading the word about www.davidjayne.net. Though I was certain our neighbor destroyed my family’s well being it appears they did us a favor. I should be writing. Again, thank you all!
Be back Monday Lord willing and the creek don’t rise. Have a great weekend! dj