This morning I read about a couple who had planned to go to the midnight showing of Dark Knight in Aurora, Colorado, but they couldn't find a babysitter and had to stay home. They're grateful now that things worked out the way they did due to the lives that were lost by a lone gunman.
That reminded me of a similar incident in my own life. In the fall of 1980, my husband and I were living in Aurora, Colorado and had come to Kansas City for a business conference. Sitting in the lobby of the Hyatt Regency, we ran into the parents of our of our daughter's friend, Jennifer. We visited for a short time and that was it.
In April of 1981 we were transferred to Kansas City, which was home for us. That summer, Jennifer came to visit our daughter, Joey, and just for fun, we decided to take her to the Hyatt Regency to show her where her parents had stayed. (Looking back, it seems like a lame activity, but located in the Crown Center, it's a great part of town to show visitors.)
Fortunately for us, I didn't go to that part of town often, and I got lost. We stopped and asked for directions. It took longer for us to get there than we had anticipated. When we finally got to the area on July 17, 1981, there were already fire trucks and emergency vehicles. It wasn't until later that we heard that the skywalk had collapsed and more than 100 people had died.
Today, to refresh my memory, I searched for the details and found this link. Up until the collapse of the Twin Towers in 2001, the collapse of the Hyatt Regency had caused the largest loss of life.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hyatt_Regency_walkway_collapse
July 17 was my grandparents' wedding anniversary. I remember telling them the next day that we had been on our way to the Hyatt, and in fact had pulled up in front of it just after the skywalk collapsed. Grandma started crying. I felt a rush of gratitude as I realized that because I hadn't been able to drive directly to the hotel, my life, and the lives of my two teenage girls, was spared.
Sometimes things just happen the way they should. And just as many times, they don't. I didn't get any special feeling that I shouldn't go to that hotel, just as this couple didn't have any premonition about staying home. It just happened. And we are very grateful that it did.
Struggling with consequences of choices?
Tuesday, July 24, 2012
Sunday, July 22, 2012
Filling Grandma's Shoes
They say you can't know how much someone loves you until you're in their shoes. You don't know how much your mother loves you until you're a mother. Same thing applies to grandmothers.
Last week I had three of my granddaughters for just four days. Kaci is 8 and her twin sisters, Addi and Lexi, are 5. As much as I tried to simplify the visit, they absolutely wore me out! I'm used to a quiet house, eating when I'm ready, and going to bed when I'm tired. I'm not used to three little people telling me they're hungry, thirsty, bored, and wanting to either play on my phone, my Kindle, or my computer. I can usually eat without making a mess and can drink without spilling. I would prefer not to eat PBJ every day for lunch and mac and cheese for dinner. I don't throw my clothes on the floor, I eat all of the food on my plate, I flush the toilet, and I wash my hands without being told.
On their last day, and my last nerve, I had thoughts of my own grandmother at this point in her life.
When she was 57, she and my grandfather became caregivers for my sister and me. My dad had primary custody but when he and my mother divorced, the judge wanted the influence of a woman in the home. We all went to Grandma's house - even my dad. I was 7 and Sue was 2. While she was always "Grandma," she assumed all of the duties of a mother. With the exception of having Annette come and do housekeeping chores every Friday, Grandma did everything else. I'd imagine that Grandma changed diapers and did the potty training for my sister. She cooked 3 meals a day, was active in the Parent Teacher Association, and still managed to volunteer for the church and her Eastern Star. She made all of our clothes, canned and froze the food Grandpa grew in our garden, and even sewed for my Barbie. I think she loved every part of it and would have done anything for her girls.
My grandmother was a good woman. She and my grandfather must have made tremendous sacrifices in their lives to take care of two little girls, and yet I don't EVER remember feeling like I was a burden to them. We were good little girls desperately needing to feel loved and they certainly made us feel like we were right where we needed to be.
I thank my lucky stars for my grandparents. They were the best!
Fast forward this three years. Our father announced that he'd met someone and they were getting married. He told Grandma and Grandpa he would be taking "the girls" to live with him and his new wife. I remember crying, and when asked why I was crying, I lied and said I was happy for him.
About a month later my dad came with a trailer to move our things out of Grandma's house. I don't remember anyone trying to help me understand how this was going to be better. After all, it didn't get any better than being with Grandma and Grandpa. What I do remember about that day is my grandparents, holding on to each other, and sobbing as we drove away.
Fifty-two years later, if I could go back to one point in my life and change the course, it would be that day. If children could have had a voice back then, my sister and I would have stood firm. We would have said we wanted to stay there. We never would have left. It was really the only three years in our childhoods that we felt peace. We felt wanted. We felt loved. Any stability I feel in my life comes from what I soaked up in those three short years.
I can only imagine the anguish my grandparents must have felt as we left that day. Maybe Grandma felt relief that she could get her own life back, but I'd be more inclined to believe she felt as if her heart had been ripped into shreds.
Now I've stepped into the Grandma's shoes. My shoes might be flip-flops and not as binding as the black laced chunky heels my grandma wore, but they travel the same path. I don't have primary responsibility for any of our nine, but when they're in my home, it's my desire for them to feel loved and secure. Being Grandma, and not Mom, I can put other things on the back burner and focus entirely on them for awhile. It's a nice break for them and for me.
I always knew my grandma loved me, but she died before I was able to fully appreciate the contribution she made to my life. For now, I have to be content with trying to emulate her example so that one day my own children and grandchildren will know what being a grandparent is all about.
Last week I had three of my granddaughters for just four days. Kaci is 8 and her twin sisters, Addi and Lexi, are 5. As much as I tried to simplify the visit, they absolutely wore me out! I'm used to a quiet house, eating when I'm ready, and going to bed when I'm tired. I'm not used to three little people telling me they're hungry, thirsty, bored, and wanting to either play on my phone, my Kindle, or my computer. I can usually eat without making a mess and can drink without spilling. I would prefer not to eat PBJ every day for lunch and mac and cheese for dinner. I don't throw my clothes on the floor, I eat all of the food on my plate, I flush the toilet, and I wash my hands without being told.
On their last day, and my last nerve, I had thoughts of my own grandmother at this point in her life.
When she was 57, she and my grandfather became caregivers for my sister and me. My dad had primary custody but when he and my mother divorced, the judge wanted the influence of a woman in the home. We all went to Grandma's house - even my dad. I was 7 and Sue was 2. While she was always "Grandma," she assumed all of the duties of a mother. With the exception of having Annette come and do housekeeping chores every Friday, Grandma did everything else. I'd imagine that Grandma changed diapers and did the potty training for my sister. She cooked 3 meals a day, was active in the Parent Teacher Association, and still managed to volunteer for the church and her Eastern Star. She made all of our clothes, canned and froze the food Grandpa grew in our garden, and even sewed for my Barbie. I think she loved every part of it and would have done anything for her girls.
My grandmother was a good woman. She and my grandfather must have made tremendous sacrifices in their lives to take care of two little girls, and yet I don't EVER remember feeling like I was a burden to them. We were good little girls desperately needing to feel loved and they certainly made us feel like we were right where we needed to be.
I thank my lucky stars for my grandparents. They were the best!
Fast forward this three years. Our father announced that he'd met someone and they were getting married. He told Grandma and Grandpa he would be taking "the girls" to live with him and his new wife. I remember crying, and when asked why I was crying, I lied and said I was happy for him.
About a month later my dad came with a trailer to move our things out of Grandma's house. I don't remember anyone trying to help me understand how this was going to be better. After all, it didn't get any better than being with Grandma and Grandpa. What I do remember about that day is my grandparents, holding on to each other, and sobbing as we drove away.
Fifty-two years later, if I could go back to one point in my life and change the course, it would be that day. If children could have had a voice back then, my sister and I would have stood firm. We would have said we wanted to stay there. We never would have left. It was really the only three years in our childhoods that we felt peace. We felt wanted. We felt loved. Any stability I feel in my life comes from what I soaked up in those three short years.
I can only imagine the anguish my grandparents must have felt as we left that day. Maybe Grandma felt relief that she could get her own life back, but I'd be more inclined to believe she felt as if her heart had been ripped into shreds.
Now I've stepped into the Grandma's shoes. My shoes might be flip-flops and not as binding as the black laced chunky heels my grandma wore, but they travel the same path. I don't have primary responsibility for any of our nine, but when they're in my home, it's my desire for them to feel loved and secure. Being Grandma, and not Mom, I can put other things on the back burner and focus entirely on them for awhile. It's a nice break for them and for me.
I always knew my grandma loved me, but she died before I was able to fully appreciate the contribution she made to my life. For now, I have to be content with trying to emulate her example so that one day my own children and grandchildren will know what being a grandparent is all about.
Sunday, July 1, 2012
Eddie Can't Fly
June 9 - Eddie came out to Conroe to do some electrical work for Roger and then work on our place. About 5 pm, we were talking about what to do for dinner, so he decided to quit for the day. He stomped his foot on the deck to remove the sand from his boots, and a big swarm of wasps flew out from under the deck. Since he's allergic to bees and wasps, he took the only way out - he jumped off the side of the deck. There were wasps in front of the door and at the steps, so it was only his way to escape. The deck is only about 5' high, but I guess when you're 67 years old, you can do a lot of damage anyway!
I was inside Denise's house because we were trying to figure out what to do about dinner. Next thing I know, Eddie called her and told her he needed Roger right away. She said he was out of breath. Roger hurried to put on his shoes and ran outside but he couldn't see Eddie. That's because he was down on the ground. Eddie knew immediately that he was really hurt. Roger managed to get him up and started helping him toward the house, but Eddie told him to just put him in the car. He knew he had to go to the ER.
When I saw him hopping on one foot with Roger, I told Denise, "Your dad's hurt!" We both ran outside to see what was going on. Roger got Eddie into the car and we took off for the hospital, not knowing when we'd get home.
I knew he was in pain because of the noises he was making along the way! I took him to St. Luke's in the Woodlands because they take our Kelsey-Seybold insurance. I pulled up to the emergency entrance, ran inside to get help and a wheelchair, and then parked the car.
They took his information and then we waited. And waited. The waiting room wasn't busy but we had to wait for someone to come take him to x-ray.
A couple of hours later, they determined that he had broken his heel. They put his leg and foot in a splint and sent us home with x-rays, crutches, a prescription, and instructions to call and get an appointment with an orthopedic doctor on Monday. We also needed to get a prescription for pain pills.
We dropped off the prescription and then ate at Panera. We were both pretty hungry at that point. Eddie waited in the car while I went inside to order, and then we both ate in the car.
I kept texting Denise along the way to let her know what was going on. We stopped and picked up dessert on the way home and when they saw us pull in, they came over to get the news.
Eddie had wanted to go back to the golf course tonight, but I was too tired for the one hour drive. We stayed at the house.
June 10 - Eddie didn't get much sleep last night. The Vicodin wasn't helping as well as the Advil Gel Caps! He had to sleep in the guest room because our bed is too high for him to climb into.
I woke up just feeling sick to my stomach. I've had a respiratory virus for about 10 days now and think it's affecting my stomach. I'm hungry but nothing sounds good. I fixed bacon and eggs for breakfast but threw most of mine away. We spent most of the day sleeping. Later in the day, we drove to the golf course. Eddie had to climb up the stairs to get inside. I feel so sorry for him.
June 11 - I called as soon as Kelsey opened and was able to get an appointment at the Main Campus for Eddie at 2 pm. We rigged up a way for him to take a shower. I put a trash bag on his leg and then taped the top closed with packing tape. I took one of our plastic tubs with a lid and filled it with a case of toilet paper to keep it from collapsing in the shower. Eddie sat on the tub in the shower and it worked just fine. It just took a long time because he had to be so careful with the leg.
The doctor looked at his x-ray and put him in a boot. Told him not to put ANY weight on his right foot. Also told him not to drive. Looks like I am now the go-to person for everything! I'm thankful he has the boot instead of a cast because he can take it off for the shower. We can do this!
June 18 - Roger went to Colombia this week and we didn't want Denise out in the country with the kids by herself. I stocked the fridge with food Eddie could heat by himself and went to stay with Denise. We drove down on Wednesday to take him to lunch for Father's Day since he didn't feel like going out there on Sunday.
June 24 - I'm generally at the golf course Saturday through Monday. This week I stayed until Wednesday because Sandi dropped the girls off early that morning. I kept them until Friday about 5 pm. We sure had a good time, but next time I won't plan so much. We hardly had any time at home. We went to Incredible Pizza one day for lunch and games, then to see "Brave" that night. That was a full day. The next day we went swimming at Rick and Sally's pool. After stopping for lunch, we came home, went for a walk in the woods, and it was time to take them back to their mom's.
July 1 - I asked Doc Anthon to come by and see Eddie today. He's a podiatrist and I'm concerned about whether Eddie's heel is healing properly. He looked at the x-rays and explained what had happened and what he could expect. The heel is actually broken in 5 places. He says Eddie's right leg will be about 1/2" shorter than his other one when this finally heals. The bone in the heel will grow and mend, but because it's damaged and not in alignment like it should be, he will most likely have pain with it for the rest of his life.
I was inside Denise's house because we were trying to figure out what to do about dinner. Next thing I know, Eddie called her and told her he needed Roger right away. She said he was out of breath. Roger hurried to put on his shoes and ran outside but he couldn't see Eddie. That's because he was down on the ground. Eddie knew immediately that he was really hurt. Roger managed to get him up and started helping him toward the house, but Eddie told him to just put him in the car. He knew he had to go to the ER.
When I saw him hopping on one foot with Roger, I told Denise, "Your dad's hurt!" We both ran outside to see what was going on. Roger got Eddie into the car and we took off for the hospital, not knowing when we'd get home.
I knew he was in pain because of the noises he was making along the way! I took him to St. Luke's in the Woodlands because they take our Kelsey-Seybold insurance. I pulled up to the emergency entrance, ran inside to get help and a wheelchair, and then parked the car.
They took his information and then we waited. And waited. The waiting room wasn't busy but we had to wait for someone to come take him to x-ray.
A couple of hours later, they determined that he had broken his heel. They put his leg and foot in a splint and sent us home with x-rays, crutches, a prescription, and instructions to call and get an appointment with an orthopedic doctor on Monday. We also needed to get a prescription for pain pills.
We dropped off the prescription and then ate at Panera. We were both pretty hungry at that point. Eddie waited in the car while I went inside to order, and then we both ate in the car.
I kept texting Denise along the way to let her know what was going on. We stopped and picked up dessert on the way home and when they saw us pull in, they came over to get the news.
Eddie had wanted to go back to the golf course tonight, but I was too tired for the one hour drive. We stayed at the house.
June 10 - Eddie didn't get much sleep last night. The Vicodin wasn't helping as well as the Advil Gel Caps! He had to sleep in the guest room because our bed is too high for him to climb into.
I woke up just feeling sick to my stomach. I've had a respiratory virus for about 10 days now and think it's affecting my stomach. I'm hungry but nothing sounds good. I fixed bacon and eggs for breakfast but threw most of mine away. We spent most of the day sleeping. Later in the day, we drove to the golf course. Eddie had to climb up the stairs to get inside. I feel so sorry for him.
June 11 - I called as soon as Kelsey opened and was able to get an appointment at the Main Campus for Eddie at 2 pm. We rigged up a way for him to take a shower. I put a trash bag on his leg and then taped the top closed with packing tape. I took one of our plastic tubs with a lid and filled it with a case of toilet paper to keep it from collapsing in the shower. Eddie sat on the tub in the shower and it worked just fine. It just took a long time because he had to be so careful with the leg.
The doctor looked at his x-ray and put him in a boot. Told him not to put ANY weight on his right foot. Also told him not to drive. Looks like I am now the go-to person for everything! I'm thankful he has the boot instead of a cast because he can take it off for the shower. We can do this!
June 18 - Roger went to Colombia this week and we didn't want Denise out in the country with the kids by herself. I stocked the fridge with food Eddie could heat by himself and went to stay with Denise. We drove down on Wednesday to take him to lunch for Father's Day since he didn't feel like going out there on Sunday.
June 24 - I'm generally at the golf course Saturday through Monday. This week I stayed until Wednesday because Sandi dropped the girls off early that morning. I kept them until Friday about 5 pm. We sure had a good time, but next time I won't plan so much. We hardly had any time at home. We went to Incredible Pizza one day for lunch and games, then to see "Brave" that night. That was a full day. The next day we went swimming at Rick and Sally's pool. After stopping for lunch, we came home, went for a walk in the woods, and it was time to take them back to their mom's.
July 1 - I asked Doc Anthon to come by and see Eddie today. He's a podiatrist and I'm concerned about whether Eddie's heel is healing properly. He looked at the x-rays and explained what had happened and what he could expect. The heel is actually broken in 5 places. He says Eddie's right leg will be about 1/2" shorter than his other one when this finally heals. The bone in the heel will grow and mend, but because it's damaged and not in alignment like it should be, he will most likely have pain with it for the rest of his life.
Friday, June 8, 2012
Waiting for the Green Light
I've been struggling for awhile to know what direction to take in my business. I've prayed about it. Spent lots of time thinking about it. Spent even more time feeling frustrated that I didn't have some magic road map that would tell me which way to go. Instead of forging ahead for the sake of staying in motion, I have been patiently waiting at the crossroads until I got the signal to go.
A couple of days ago, the light turned green! What's interesting is the detour I had to take to get me on track.
1. My PayPal account got hacked,or phished, which meant that I had to cancel my credit card and wait for a new one.
2. In the meantime, my web host shut down my website because of non-payment
3. Next, I received an email from a client who wanted to refer me, but wanted to make sure I was still in business.
4. Once I got the site up again, I emailed my client to explain what had happened. In my reply, I decided to ask for his advice on bringing in some new business.
5. The response I got from him was much more than I had asked for. Not only did he give me some ideas that hadn't occurred to me, he also said he would be willing to get the ball rolling for me.
As soon as I read the email, I realized that he held the key that could get me rolling again.
I'm always excited when I realize how many people Heavenly Father has to engage to answer my prayers. Not only did I need to wait and be patient, but I even had to go through the aggravation of reinstating my site. Had the site been working properly, my client wouldn't have contacted me. When replying, I took the opportunity to ask for his help.
I realize that the rest is up to me, but right now I'm willing to give credit where credit is due!
A couple of days ago, the light turned green! What's interesting is the detour I had to take to get me on track.
1. My PayPal account got hacked,or phished, which meant that I had to cancel my credit card and wait for a new one.
2. In the meantime, my web host shut down my website because of non-payment
3. Next, I received an email from a client who wanted to refer me, but wanted to make sure I was still in business.
4. Once I got the site up again, I emailed my client to explain what had happened. In my reply, I decided to ask for his advice on bringing in some new business.
5. The response I got from him was much more than I had asked for. Not only did he give me some ideas that hadn't occurred to me, he also said he would be willing to get the ball rolling for me.
As soon as I read the email, I realized that he held the key that could get me rolling again.
I'm always excited when I realize how many people Heavenly Father has to engage to answer my prayers. Not only did I need to wait and be patient, but I even had to go through the aggravation of reinstating my site. Had the site been working properly, my client wouldn't have contacted me. When replying, I took the opportunity to ask for his help.
I realize that the rest is up to me, but right now I'm willing to give credit where credit is due!
Thursday, May 24, 2012
Chicken & Beans
This week I bottled, or pressure canned 20 pounds of chicken. That yielded 11 quarts of ready-to-eat or use white chicken breasts.
My pressure canner holds 7 jars at a time, and to fill up the extra 3 spaces, I also canned some white beans. I put one cup of dry beans in each jar and filled it with water so they could soak overnight. The next morning, I rinsed the beans several times and then filled them with water and a tsp of salt before putting the lid on. I was so pleased that the beans processed just fine! My last experience with pressure cooking beans was about 30 years ago and resulted in blowing a gasket and beans being spewed all over my ceiling! They weren't in jars, but were just being cooked in the pressure cooker. Glad I've learned another way to cook the beans in the jar, and with a bit of warming, they're ready to eat.
My pressure canner holds 7 jars at a time, and to fill up the extra 3 spaces, I also canned some white beans. I put one cup of dry beans in each jar and filled it with water so they could soak overnight. The next morning, I rinsed the beans several times and then filled them with water and a tsp of salt before putting the lid on. I was so pleased that the beans processed just fine! My last experience with pressure cooking beans was about 30 years ago and resulted in blowing a gasket and beans being spewed all over my ceiling! They weren't in jars, but were just being cooked in the pressure cooker. Glad I've learned another way to cook the beans in the jar, and with a bit of warming, they're ready to eat.
Story of the Red & White Quilt
At some point it was used on my child's bed and then somewhere through the years it got put into a box. A few months ago, I put it on a shelf in my bedroom so it would be visible. Last week I was looking for something to cover up with during a Sunday afternoon nap, and reached for the quilt. As I unfolded it, a lot of different emotions came back to me. It made me wonder why I'd kept it boxed up for all these years.
One of my regrets has always been that I used the old fabric from the box. I've wished many times that I'd have purchased something new that might have held up better over the years. However, yesterday I washed the quilt in my front loader, and it made the cycle just fine. I'm not afraid to use it anymore. I'm keeping it folded at the end of my bed so I can keep the memories right in front of me between naps!
Tuesday, May 22, 2012
Team Michael
May 16th I kept thinking about how my father had passed away on that date in 1976. Since he died at 51 and I passed that age a few years ago, I always look back and wonder how I could have thought he was "old enough" at that time.
Late that same night, my husband came home and told me I needed to sit down. At first I didn't understand, but when I came to see what he was talking about, I could see he was visibly shaken. He stood there in tears trying to talk but was unable to. My mind immediately raced through the list of loved ones. Had something happened to one of our children? Grandchildren? I felt my knees start to go weak and wished that I had taken his advice to sit down.
Finally he was able to tell me his sister, Sharon, had called. I felt the first wave of relief. Sharon wouldn't be calling to tell me about my own children. The news was about our 18 year old nephew, Michael. I can't remember exactly what he said except that he used these words: Chute. Jump. Tangled. Foot. Back. Broken.
He was talking but my mind couldn't comprehend. I had to ask, knees growing even weaker: "He's not dead, is he? Please tell me he's not dead."
Thank heavens he was not. His back was broken. His parents had been called. His mom was at home alone. His dad was in New Jersey for his own father's surgery the next day. Each of them suffered with uncertainty and anxiety without the benefit of being there to comfort each other in person. Both would arrive the next morning and we would just have to wait until they were with Michael before we could get more details.
I thought about the Facebook chat Michael and I had had about two weeks ago. He had been so excited. He had to do 10 jumps before he could get his wings and come home on leave. He said he was terrified of heights but he'd get through it. After that, I'd see posts counting down the days until he could come home. If all had gone as planned, he'd have been coming home in just a couple of days.
We went to bed, but not before praying that Michael would get the medical care he needed, the doctors would be guided to do whatever was necessary to put him back together again, and that they would not find any spinal cord injuries. I assured my husband that people can have broken backs and live normal lives. He might be in pain but at least he would be able to walk. I felt comfort and the confidence that this was just a glitch and he would soon get back to the life he wanted.
This was his last jump. Jump 10 of 10. The next day we learned there were two young men involved in this accident. The guy who jumped before Michael pulled a cord that brought him up under Michael instead of away from him. Because Michael didn't get the updraft, his chute didn't stay open and got tangled up with the other one. His foot also got caught.. Both young men fell for 60-100 feet. Michael landed on his free foot. He did everything he'd been trained to do and it probably saved his life. Doctors said it was a miracle that both of these young men were still alive.
Michael does have spinal cord damage. The other young man suffered a concussion and has already been released from the hospital. Michael has some movement in his right foot. Doctors operated to insert a rod in his back so he can sit up. The next day, there was a ceremony in his room to present him with his wings. Yesterday, just four days after the accident, he stood up with a walker. He said it was painful but he was glad to be able to try.
We are excited that the Shepherd Center in Atlanta, GA has accepted him because they think he can benefit from their rehabilitation. They work specifically with people who have suffered spinal cord or brain injury. He is supposed to be transferred tomorrow, May 22nd, and they will work with him for 30 days. After that time, he will be able to be independent. They make no promises that he'll be walking, but he'll at least be able to take care of himself. Assuming that he's ready to leave in 30 days, they will then send him to a base in Kansas (Ft. Leavenworth) or Missouri (Ft. Leonard Wood) because they have army hospitals there. Because he's still on active duty, he won't be sent to a VA hospital. We are thankful that he's getting the best care available.
Michael is so fortunate to have such a wonderful support system. He's got family and friends praying for him and posting words of encouragement on Facebook. It helps to be able to contact him. His parents are business owners but they fled to his side without even thinking about their business. They, and his brother, James, will stay there with him until he's released from rehab.
Here's a picture of Michael with his dad. I'm looking forward to seeing them standing together again and I'll bet their smiles will be even bigger than the ones they have here! Love you, Michael.
Late that same night, my husband came home and told me I needed to sit down. At first I didn't understand, but when I came to see what he was talking about, I could see he was visibly shaken. He stood there in tears trying to talk but was unable to. My mind immediately raced through the list of loved ones. Had something happened to one of our children? Grandchildren? I felt my knees start to go weak and wished that I had taken his advice to sit down.
Finally he was able to tell me his sister, Sharon, had called. I felt the first wave of relief. Sharon wouldn't be calling to tell me about my own children. The news was about our 18 year old nephew, Michael. I can't remember exactly what he said except that he used these words: Chute. Jump. Tangled. Foot. Back. Broken.
He was talking but my mind couldn't comprehend. I had to ask, knees growing even weaker: "He's not dead, is he? Please tell me he's not dead."
Thank heavens he was not. His back was broken. His parents had been called. His mom was at home alone. His dad was in New Jersey for his own father's surgery the next day. Each of them suffered with uncertainty and anxiety without the benefit of being there to comfort each other in person. Both would arrive the next morning and we would just have to wait until they were with Michael before we could get more details.
I thought about the Facebook chat Michael and I had had about two weeks ago. He had been so excited. He had to do 10 jumps before he could get his wings and come home on leave. He said he was terrified of heights but he'd get through it. After that, I'd see posts counting down the days until he could come home. If all had gone as planned, he'd have been coming home in just a couple of days.
We went to bed, but not before praying that Michael would get the medical care he needed, the doctors would be guided to do whatever was necessary to put him back together again, and that they would not find any spinal cord injuries. I assured my husband that people can have broken backs and live normal lives. He might be in pain but at least he would be able to walk. I felt comfort and the confidence that this was just a glitch and he would soon get back to the life he wanted.
This was his last jump. Jump 10 of 10. The next day we learned there were two young men involved in this accident. The guy who jumped before Michael pulled a cord that brought him up under Michael instead of away from him. Because Michael didn't get the updraft, his chute didn't stay open and got tangled up with the other one. His foot also got caught.. Both young men fell for 60-100 feet. Michael landed on his free foot. He did everything he'd been trained to do and it probably saved his life. Doctors said it was a miracle that both of these young men were still alive.
Michael does have spinal cord damage. The other young man suffered a concussion and has already been released from the hospital. Michael has some movement in his right foot. Doctors operated to insert a rod in his back so he can sit up. The next day, there was a ceremony in his room to present him with his wings. Yesterday, just four days after the accident, he stood up with a walker. He said it was painful but he was glad to be able to try.
We are excited that the Shepherd Center in Atlanta, GA has accepted him because they think he can benefit from their rehabilitation. They work specifically with people who have suffered spinal cord or brain injury. He is supposed to be transferred tomorrow, May 22nd, and they will work with him for 30 days. After that time, he will be able to be independent. They make no promises that he'll be walking, but he'll at least be able to take care of himself. Assuming that he's ready to leave in 30 days, they will then send him to a base in Kansas (Ft. Leavenworth) or Missouri (Ft. Leonard Wood) because they have army hospitals there. Because he's still on active duty, he won't be sent to a VA hospital. We are thankful that he's getting the best care available.
Michael is so fortunate to have such a wonderful support system. He's got family and friends praying for him and posting words of encouragement on Facebook. It helps to be able to contact him. His parents are business owners but they fled to his side without even thinking about their business. They, and his brother, James, will stay there with him until he's released from rehab.
Here's a picture of Michael with his dad. I'm looking forward to seeing them standing together again and I'll bet their smiles will be even bigger than the ones they have here! Love you, Michael.
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