Amazing Grace

It has been a stressful week. It started out innoncently enough... our last week of summer vacation. We had  a very low key Monday and Tuesday as Matthew worked and the kids and I just hung out around the house. I enjoyed being lazy. I went to the late night showing of Eclipse (my second time seeing the movie, I bet it is the first nonkid movie I've seen at the theatre in a good two years let alone to see it twice!) with my friend Robin on Tuesday night (a special treat) and we were all lazy on Wednesday. I had actually just turned out the light on Wednesday night a little after 11:30 when the phone rang. My heart instantly started beating faster. It was my mom and I knew it wasn't going to be good news. She told me that they were at the hospital with my granddaddy. He had called them around 11:00 and told them he was having severe chest pains. They called an ambulance and apparently he went unconcsious in the ambulance (with my mom riding along). But, they had gotten him to come back around by the time they got to Harriman Hospital. After they stabilized him, they moved him by ambulance to Parkwest since Lifestar couldn't fly due to the storm going on that night. There was really nothing I could do, but just sit and wait.

Later in the night my mom called and said that he had definitely had an acute heart attack, the doctor had placed a stint in one artery that was 90% blocked, and he was conscious and breathing on his own. Matthew had to go to work for a while on Thursday because he was trying to prepare for inservice on Friday. So, I sat around anxiously on Thursday getting updates from my mom and watching the various visiting hours (since he was in CCU) pass by. The doctors had told my mom and uncle that the stint would relieve much of his pain, but there are two valves in his heart that are bad and there is just nothing they can do to repair them since he would not survive open heart surgery at his age. Eventually his heart would just stop beating. This was very discouraging to us. But, after the 10:30 visiting hour, my mom was very encouraged. He was sitting up in bed and she fed him his breakfast and he ate well and was talking. I really  wanted to see him while he was feeling better. Finally, I called Matthew and told him I really wanted him to come home. He made it home in time for me to get to the hospital for the 2:30 visiting hours. I basically ran right past him in the driveway.

As I was driving to the hospital, I started thinking about how hard it had been for me to just sit around and wait for news. And then I thought about when my grandmother was sick. My poor granddaddy wasn't strong enough to sit at the hospital and so he had to just sit at home and wait. I can't imagine how hard that must have been. Once she was moved to the nursing home, he did get to come and see her and I remember her saying, "He must miss me, he held my hand the whole time." It just broke my heart because they just had never been very domonstrative in their affection. I knew how scared he was. He would call her and tell her that he loved her and that he wanted her to come home and I think it made her upset because she just didn't feel well enough to come home. And when she passed away he was there at home and my uncle had to come and tell him. I just can't imagine. And I began to think that even if something happened to him now that they would at least be together again.

I got there just a few minutes before time to go into to see him. My cousin, Lance and I went in together. When we got to his room I could see him lying in the bed from the hallway and felt myself choking up, but then he turned his head and saw us and waved his "good" hand (he had had carpal tunnel surgery on his other hand on Monday) in the air and said, "Hey! Come on in here!" As we walked to his bedside he was in great spirits! He held my hand and told us all about what had happened. The doctor came in and talked to us (with not the most promising of news), but after he left my Granddaddy started telling us this great story.

Lance had asked Granddaddy if he had overdone it on Wednesday in the heat and he said, "I didn't leave the house all day except to drive and get the mail." Apparently something on the front page of the Roane County News had caught his attention and he stopped his truck right in the middle of the road to read the article. My mom came up on him while he was sitting there and thought something was wrong, but he was just engrossed in the article.

You see the article was about a man who in 1938 decided he wanted to live through his own funeral. So, he made his own coffin and planned this big elaborate funeral here in Roane County. He had a suit maker make him a suit in Knoxville and had gone to pick up his suit before the event and by the time he got back down to Roane County the traffic was so bad with all the spectators coming to see that he couldn't get through and therefore he was late for his own funeral! It was estimated that over 8,000 people attended the funeral! The reason the story had caught his eye was that two of those people were my granddaddy and grandmother. He said it took them hours to get there and they had to walk over a mile from where they parked to the actual funeral. He said the man was laying in his coffin greeting people as they came by,  and people were fanning him because it was so hot. My grandparents had been married just two months and it was a date for them:).

He loved telling us this story and in fact he was so animated that he kept laughing and pointing his finger. Through the glass wall, it looked as if he were pointing at the nurse. She finally came in and said, "Are you pointing and laughing at me?" Then he had to tell her the story.

I love to hear these stories. To be able to look back and imagine my grandparents as young newlyweds, laughing and having fun. I cherish them and store them away. I know for sure this will be one I will always remember. My cousin, Lance said as soon as the movie they are making about the story comes out on dvd he is going to get it and we are all going to watch it together. I left the hospital that night so encouraged and happy.

We have not been given an extremely hopeful outcome from the doctor, but right now my granddaddy is happy and feels good. That is what matters. He is in a regular room now and is off his oxygen, IV, and catheter. He was sitting up in a chair when I saw him yesterday. We are hopeful that he will come home next week. He is just amazing.

I have never heard my grandparents say there were "ready to go home (to heaven)", like you hear a lot of older people say. I heard my grandmother say it only once when she was very sick and I've never heard my granddaddy say it. The determination he showed after she passed away blew me away. He had been growing weaker and weaker before she got sick. We had all been worried about him. In fact, I believe that is when they began hearing a problem with his valves in his heart. We were all worried he would just "give up" or become so depressed that he would go downhill quickly. But it was the opposite.

I remember him telling me (while crying) on the day she passed away, that "we have to go on with our lives. It is what she would want." And while it was obvious by the things he said that he was devastated by her loss, he forced himself to eat more than he had in months. And he got himself a walker and began walking to build up his strength. He grew close to his family and cherished his great-grandchildren. And he went on with his life and he became even stronger than he had been before. He knew she would no longer be there to take care of him and he had to do it himself now. He started making his own meals after nearly 70 years of her bringing every meal to him and he did every bit of it with grace.

So, I guess it should not surprise me so much now that he would be so strong. That he would continue to fight for his life even at 92. That he would continue to look at life as a blessing and enjoy it and try to inspire and help others even during this time. That is just who he is and he is not going to "give up" until God tells him it is time. Until then, he has work to do here on Earth. And in his words, that work is to "try to treat people fairly." Which of course is such an understatement of the impact that he has had on so many people's lives and the example he has given so many to live by.

I am so proud that he is my granddaddy and I love him so much.

Kidsfest 2010

It has been so HOT this summer, but we couldn't skip kidsfest. We had a wonderful time and were able to stay cool by attending mostly shows. I was really hoping we could go back one more time before school started back, but since I cannot even walk into the garage without melting I don't see that happening. I usually love summer, but this year I can't wait for cooler fall weather. When it is too hot to swim, it is just too hot!

A Special Delivery

A few days after we returned from the beach a special package was delivered to our front door. One that we all anxiously ran to receive. I'd dare say, the most anticipated package of Evan's life... but let me start at the beginning.

So, we were about three hours out from the beach, looking for a nice exit to stop at for lunch when Evan asked what would seem to be a simple question. But, this particular question made my heart leap into my throat. And when I looked over at Matthew to see how he reacted to the question, I felt like I would throw up when I saw his white face. Suddenly I knew. We were in serious trouble.

The question?

"Where is my blue blankie?"

The answer? Well, none of us really knew. That was the problem. Matthew and I tried to stay calm. We spoke in hushed voices.

"Did you get his blankie this morning?"

"No."

"Didn't you?"

"I don't remember seeing it."

We didn't want to alarm Evan until absolutely necessary, but I had a very, very, very bad feeling about this. You see, it had been very chaotic getting everything together that morning as we had 10 people who had to pack and be out of the house by 10 that morning. Add to that the fact that none of us had gone to bed before 11 (kids included) the night before and you also had 2 tired, cranky kids mixed into the process. Evan had spent the entire morning buried in the covers of the bed watching cartoons while we packed. At the last minute I ordered him out of the bed to get dressed and then we immediately got in the car. And I knew he had without a doubt had his blue blankie in the bed with him, but I didn't ever remember seeing it that morning. I knew it was still buried in the covers on the bed. And I began to feel very sick at my stomach.

After doing a quick search of the backseat, I said, "Evan, did you have it in the car this morning?"

He answered in a small voice, "I don't remember."

"When is the last time you remember having it?"

And even smaller voice answered, "I don't know."

I looked at Matthew. He looked at me. Evan began to catch on.

"Where is my blue blankie?" he asked again with a slight edge to his voice.

"We don't know, honey, but we'll find it."

"Did we leave it at the beach?"

"We're not sure, but we're afraid so."

I then called Wild Dunes and asked them if they could please check to see if the blanket had been found in our room. They said they would check with housekeeping and call me back. I did not have a good feeling about this. I really wanted to just turn around and go back. I was thinking we could just spend one more night at a hotel or something and come home tomorrow. But, I knew this idea was ridiculous so I didn't voice it out loud. In the meantime, Evan had begun to cry and we stopped for lunch. After we got the kids settled with lunch, Evan crying the entire time, Matthew went out and thoroughly searched the car. It definitely wasn't in there. He called them back at Wild Dunes. They said they hadn't heard back from housekeeping yet, but would call within an hour. We drove on with Evan still sniffling in the backseat.

I sat in the front seat and listened to Evan's sniffling and my heart hurt for him. I knew just how much his blanket meant to him. I thought about how I had wrapped him in the blanket as a baby. I remembered how many times I had rocked him with the blanket tucked around us. I pictured him sleeping with it as a toddler all snuggled up to it. Sitting on the couch with it watching cartoons with his green paci in his mouth. Him running through the house with it tied as a cape. The blankie tied around his head like Sinbad the sailor. The tears when I would pry it away to wash it. Him sitting in his "special spot" at daycare with it clutched in his hands. Burrying his face in it while he got shots at the doctor. As I remembered all of these little things, I got a huge lump in my throat. I was heartbroken for my little boy, yes, but there was something more as well.

I wanted that blanket back!

I could bury my face in that blanket and bring back a million images from my baby's childhood. I had to have it back. I knew he wouldn't stay attached to it forever, but I had always assumed when he tired of it I would pack it away somewhere to pull out years from now when he had a baby of his own. I thought I would keep it nice and safe to pull out on the day that he left for college. That on his wedding night I would bury my nose in it and remember him as a child. I couldn't lose that blanket. I was beginning to feel slightly hysterical.

We stopped for gas about an hour later and while Matthew was inside taking Evan to the restroom, I called back again. They said they had been unable to locate it. I swallowed the lump in my throat and tried to keep my voice from cracking. I said I was pretty positive it was probably left in the bed and perhaps it would turn up when they laundered the sheets. Could I describe it for them, just in case? They humored me, but I could tell that this teenage sounding "ambassador" was not very concerned at all about our baby blanket.

How could he know how much it meant to us? How it brought endless comfort to my little boy? How he referred to that blanket as his best friend? How he spread it out on the floor to make an ocean for his pirates? How it turned him into a superhero? How it held all the best memories of my firstborn child in its worn and threadbare material? He couldn't possibly. How could I make him understand. I knew I couldn't, so I hung up very disheartened. And the tears came to my eyes. I knew I was being dramatic, but I felt like I had lost a piece of his childhood that I would now never get back.

Matthew returned to the car and got Evan buckled in and then he looked at me. I just shook my head. He took one look at my face and Evan's sad face and shook his head as well. We drove along in silence. Evan finally fell asleep and he decided to call back one more time and ask to speak to someone "higher up" than the "ambassadors" we had been talking to. I was pretty sure they were sick of hearing from us about this silly blanket. He got on the phone and explained who he was and that we had spoken to them several times today... and then he said, "Oh, really?"

My heart soared with hope.

"You found it?"

A HUGE smile broke out across my face. I looked over at him and he nodded happily. I listened while he gave them our address and arranged for them to mail it. Finally, he said, "So you do have it right now?" and then looked over at me and gave me the thumbs up.

I was so very happy. After he got off the phone I told him I was so relieved that I was almost as upset over losing it as Evan was. He said he understood and that he'd wanted Evan to stop carrying it around, but he didn't want to lose it like this. Then he said, he'd even thought about turning around and going back down there. I laughed and said I had thought the exact same thing!

So, it took a few extra days due to the 4th, but finally the doorbell rang. We all ran to it and quickly grabbed the FedEx box. Evan ripped into it and joyfully reunited with his best friend...

Best friends, together again.

And we are ever so grateful to the ambassadors at Wild Dunes for finding our friend and returning it to us. They even sent Hannah's red shorts that she couldn't find and a hair clip. I guess they did a fairly thorough search of our house for fear that we might keep calling, LOL.

Sweet Dreams, Sweetheart

The other day, Chloe was watching cartoons in our bed while I fixed her lunch. I guess I waited a little too long because when I went in to get her, I found this...

a precious, sleeping angel...

frozen in mid-hair twirl...

so utterly adorable, my heart ached...

Sweet dreams, sweetheart!

Independence Day

Some pictures from the 4th...

Let Freedom Ring!

We had a low-key 4th this year since we were just getting back from the beach. We shot some fireworks at my parents' house on the 3rd and discovered Chloe was not very fond of them. So, on the 4th we ended up going to see Toy Story 3 and to eat at Olive Garden and decided to skip the fireworks at Kingston this year. We went back over to my parents and had our own little fireworks show, which Chloe mostly enjoyed from Granddaddy's lap inside. She did like sparklers, but scared me to death because she would immediately put it right next to her clothes! Evan, of course, loved them as usual! He had a great time!