A Weekend in May

Every so often I will vividly recall a night that happened about eight years ago.  This was the night that my Grandpa Thomas passed away.  There were so many things that took place that weekend that were poignant, beautiful and heart-breaking.  Perhaps that's why it's left such an imprint on me.  So please bear with me while I put this memory to "paper"...

It was a Friday evening.  I was still living at home, but had stayed out in St. Clair after work to hang out with my friend Angie.  We went shopping and were hanging out at her apartment putting together picture gifts for our friends when my mom called.  She was just letting me know that she and Dad were headed out to see Grandpa.  He had been taken to the hospital that evening due to internal bleeding.  Grandpa had been living with an aneurysm for a decade, and there was concern that it had finally ruptured.  I paused and asked how serious things were.  Mom seemed hesitant to answer, but then said that it was probably pretty serious.  I asked if they would be willing to wait 20 minutes so I could come home and go to the hospital with them.

I have no idea how fast I drove, but I think I got back to Richmond in record time.  Mom, Dad and I quickly got ourselves together and headed out the door.  A coffee stop was desperately needed since the hour was late and my parents otherwise would have long since been in bed.  I remember Dad and I going into a gas station and finding a mostly empty coffee pot that had probably been on for hours.  Thank goodness for Starbucks bottled coffee :-) 

Once we arrived at the hospital, we were escorted to the ER where my grandparents, aunts, uncles and some of my cousins were gathered.  Grandpa was in a bed, his eyes closed and breathing labored.  Grandma sat beside his bed in a wheelchair.  This is one of those moments that I will never forget: she was holding his hand, bent over in prayer and kept repeating "God is good."  (Lord, may I have that faith!)  My mom took up post on the other side of the bed - holding Grandpa's hand, stroking his forehead and talking to him gently. 

The next moment was one that I'm so glad I got to have.  Mom gave me Grandpa's hand to hold.  I was at a complete loss for anything to say, so I just stood there quietly.  After a few minutes my Grandpa opened his eyes.  He smiled at me and said my name.  That was the last time he spoke to me, and I will treasure that moment forever.

The ER staff was so kind to our family.  They allowed the entire crew to stay with my Grandpa instead of the usual two at a time.  They brought in trays of coffee and orange juice.  They understood that these could very well be the final moments with my Grandpa and treated that time with great respect.

I don't recall how long we had been there when a surgeon came over to talk with us.  He explained that Grandpa's aneurysm had in fact ruptured and the only chance for repair was surgery.  We were told that the survival rate was 30% given all the factors involved.  I believe my Grandpa's words were that he had to "at least give it a shot."

Some of us said our farewells at that point and went to the ER waiting room while Grandpa was prepped for surgery.  After a while we were taken to the main waiting area in the hospital so we could keep vigil.  I don't remember everything that took place during those hours, but I do remember uncomfortable chairs, a run for snacks and drinks, and sitting with my Uncle Lee while we talked about how the Lord was at work around us.  It was a great moment of ministry on such a tough night!

It was hours before the surgeon came back downstairs and gathered us into a smaller room.  He began explaining what had happened in detail.  This was around 5:00 am, and we had been up all night.  I had a hard time following the doctor's explanation.  For a minute, I truly was unsure if he was saying that the surgery had been successful or not.  Ultimately, the surgery had been successful in stopping the bleeding, but the whole ordeal had been too much for Grandpa to overcome.  He was still technically alive due to a ventilator and pacemaker.  We were going to taken upstairs to say our last good-byes.

Deep breaths and silence as we headed to the elevators.  As we waited, another set of elevator doors opened with some surgical staff getting out.  I locked eyes with a familiar face.  I had worked with Julia a few years back.  She asked what I was doing there, but I think she already knew.  She had been part of Grandpa's surgical team.  I told her, and she hugged me tightly and cried with me. It was a difficult moment before going upstairs, but such a comfort too. 

One-by-one, we each went up to Grandpa's bed and said good-bye.  It was surreal walking out of the hospital just a few minutes later.  Was it really over?  Was he really gone?  It was hard to accept as being real at that moment.

Those who had the energy were going to gather at my Grandma's house.  We stopped at Dunkin' Donuts on the way over to get breakfast for everyone.  I don't think anyone really wanted to eat, but it gave us something to do while we sat around the dining room table.  Grandma looked so stoic for a while, but eventually the tears came bursting through.  She missed him so much. 

After a while, everyone needed some sleep.  So we headed back to Richmond.  I called my sisters to give them the news. 

I think we all stumbled into our respective beds once we got home.  I couldn't sleep, so I decided to take a shower.  That's when the major tears came.  The nice thing about crying in the shower is that your breakdown is hardly noticeable when you're done.  With all that emotional energy spent, I was able to fall asleep for several hours.

When I woke up, I called my friend Amy to let her know what was going on.  She had lost her "Pa" just a few days earlier as well.  She invited me to come hang out her, her mom and grandma at her grandma's home.  Having all just experienced a big loss, it was cathartic to sit around a table with these ladies talking, laughing and grieving.

There were more "moments" in the days that followed throughout the viewing and funeral.  I was surrounded often by my church family.  Their support was unbelievable.  Lots of crazy "Thomas" moments - the type that involved hysterical laughter and insanity.  You know, the kind that you can just never fully explain to non-family members.  :-)

Coming back to the present, I had the opportunity to see an old video of my Grandpa a few weeks ago.  It was nice to see his face, but even better to hear his voice.  I miss his voice. I miss seeing him in his favorite green recliner.  I miss the anticipation of Grandma and Grandpa coming over for Thanksgiving.  I miss the way he made his speciality drink - instant iced tea.  I even miss how he would give my Grandma a hard time just to get a rise out of her (which he almost always did!).

I'm also grateful that the Lord promises that this is not the end for those who believe in Him (Jesus Christ).  Those whose faith is in Jesus have the gift and promise of eternal life in heaven.  So we do not have to mourn as the world mourns.  I'll get to see my Grandpa again - and it will be even better than now!

For those of you still reading this, thanks for the opportunity to let me share my heart... :-)

Coffee from Mark

It was around this time four years ago that my husband and I began being interested in each other.  Matthew decided on a rather unique way to let me know that he liked me...

On Friday morning at work, I came out of a staff meeting to find a City Brew coffee (medium vanilla latte, to be exact) on my desk.  It only had a sticky note on it with the church's address and the words "from Mark".  Hmm...

So I asked a couple of our volunteer ladies who had delivered the coffee and what did they say.  All they knew was that a lady from City Brew has stopped in.  Nothing more than that.

So I stared and stared at the sticky note....from Mark?  I didn't know any Mark at that time.  At certainly not a Mark who would be sending me coffee.  I thought perhaps it had been Matt, and they simply got the name wrong.  But I was too embarrassed to call and ask.  What if it wasn't from him?  Then he'd wonder why I did think it was from him.

So the weekend went by, and I just couldn't get up the nerve to call Matt.  And I didn't hear anything from him either.  My next opportunity to see him would be on Tuesday at the small group we both attended.  I wasn't able to get there till after the actual group meeting, so I was rushing - hoping he'd still be there.

Of course, my goal was to appear nonchalant and somehow casually bring up the mystery coffee.  Not really sure how to go about that, I plunked myself down on a couch between Matt and another friend (who quickly and discreetly excused herself).  It was at this point that I found myself completely tongue-tied and awkwardly trying to bring it up.

Then Matt asked, "have you gotten any special deliveries at work?"

I was relieved to discover that Mark really had been Matt.  The poor guy went four days thinking I was somehow upset about getting the coffee and wasn't interested in being pursued.  He was wrong!

And the rest is history...we've been married for three years and he still brings me coffee.

I love you, Matthew!

Life's Little Joys

The transition from being a full-time working wife to that of a stay-at-home wife AND mom has been quite a bit more challenging than I ever imagined (and a topic for another time).  However, it has caused me to begin appreciating the little things more.  Here are a few of them...

Sunshine - even if I only see it through the window on a particular day

Enjoying a cup of coffee in peace and quiet

In-laws who live just a few minutes away.  They've graciously baby-sat, support us as new parents and sometimes just provide a place to go when we have cabin fever.

Alone time at 2:00 am

Listening to the wisdom of preachers who have long since gone to be with the Lord

Watching my daughter grow: rolling over, trying to sit-up, her first tooth and all her smiles and giggles

The times when Aven will sleep in my arms

A hot shower

Clean clothes (at least for a few minutes without formula, spit-up or cereal)

Store brands

A car ride with my husband just so we can catch up

Seeing my family fall in love with my daughter

The little hungry whine Aven makes in the wee hours of morning when she's started to eat and I have to take the bottle away for a moment

Sleepytime tea...time to have a cup and call it a night :-)

Just Getting Started

A few more friends have started their own blogs recently, so I decided to get on the bandwagon.  Not entirely sure what I'll be blogging about most of the time, but I suspect most it will be happening in the wee hours of the morning when I can't sleep.  Like now.... ;-)