If you have read more than one of my posts you know I wear my feelings on my sleeve. I doubt they are always easily understood by others but they are there never the less. (Is nevertheless one word?) Anyway,......
On the week before Christmas, we thought we were going to move slowly and purposefully toward the big family gathering set for Christmas eve. I had planned ahead for the dinner because I knew I would still be recovering from the surgery we had started calling "having my tires rotated", so besides preparing for dinner, the Internet was my shopping center. I just had to wait for the presents to be delivered to our door and hubby would wrap all but one: his from me. So for that gift I went the extra mile and had Amazon wrap it. With a personal card!!!(Don't Judge me!) Worth every penny. My gift from hubby came the same day, he hid it in the guest house. We always decide to get something big for each other that we both like and call it our only gift(the turkey smoker). It's not always big in size or $$, just big because it is for both of us. Then, even tho' it happens every year, he surprises me with something else, and I do the same. This year I realized I needed to use his surprise gift for dinner Christmas eve and since we don't usually open our gifts until Christmas morning, I had to put on my begging shoes and give up the surprise. So I told him, "Honey I got you a coffee bean grinder, and I need you to open it so we can use it on Christmas eve" ... big smile, batting eyes, and the obligatory southern belle "please?".
Honestly, wouldn't you think that would mean I got to open my surprise? Sheesh.
Anyway, things were going fairly well with my recovery: I couldn't drive, couldn't lift anything, needed help getting dressed, and with other little details of day to day living, but I felt great for the most part. Then hubby started not feeling well. Through a series of fortunate events, a day of Dr visits kept me away from home, with him, and away from the pain meds. Good thing because we had to return to Longview from Castle Rock to take hubby to ER, and I had to drive. Good thing I was off the pills long enough to drive.
We were in a situation that was either going to mean an emergency surgery that was dangerous due to poor vitals, or everything was going to be OK after having some IV antibiotics. These were our choices. Terrifying or no big deal. We are hospital professionals because of my cancer history, my daughter had a terrible infection when she was 10 months old and severe anemia during her early teens, my son spent several post football game hours in the ER and when he was younger they began to know his name at the main desk,I started to count the stitches but gave up when I lost count. I never had to leave any of my family in the hospital over night. We have been there over night waiting, but I never walked out of the hospital leaving them to stay in an unfamiliar room, saying goodbye and letting go of their hand. I was always the one in the bed.
Roland finally saw the surgeon and she eliminated the dangerous surgical option, but he had to stay on the IV for over 24 hours and that was gonna put him at the wrong time to come home the next day so we knew we were looking at at least two nights in the hospital. Under normal circumstances ( whatever that means) I would have called my daughter and stayed at the hospital, but by now I was definitely feeling the need to pay attention to my own recovery. Pain and fatigue + sleeping in a chair = TROUBLE. But as I said goodbye I was overwhelmed by the pain of deep love. Yes, I said the pain of deep love. I didn't want to leave. We tried to convince ourselves I could stay but ultimately this wisdom won out: I have to take care of myself because he could not, whereas he would be taken care of there, and I could not at home.
So at home, alone, I began to realize how amazing love is, how I didn't want to leave the bedside of the guy who spills little drops of coffee by the coffeemaker EVERY SINGLE DAY, the guy who does a million little things that drive me crazy, I didn't want to be away. How wonderful to feel love so strongly it hurts. I cried and am crying now remembering it.
I had been given a candle that makes a crackling noise like a fire as a housewarming gift just a few weeks prior. I thought if I could have the candlelight and that noise maybe it would feel like he was home and had built a fire for me like he has so many times before. (I was actually purchasing another candle like that one when he came in the store to tell me I had to drive him back to the ER.) It was comforting.
The brand is WoodWick just in case you want one. Not the cure for loneliness but it is a comforting sound.
He stayed two nights and they let him come home. Then on Christmas eve morning he ended up back in the ER this time with my son driving because I had taken meds and couldn't drive, I smoked a turkey - alone, none of my plans for dinner turned out exactly how I planned them (maybe one day I'll tell how there was an unplanned fire - which had nothing to do with smoking the turkey), since Roland was not working he changed the time to three hours earlier than I had figured for a UPS family Christmas eve. And as badly as I want to blame him for my overwhelmnity I can't. There were offers to help - but I don't know how to delegate help - I gotta just have people take over. I am gonna work on that tho', because I have excellent helpers. I mean top notch helpers! These people are like the guys who change the tires on the race cars, help me out NASCAR friends - are those guys called the pit crew? Anyway these people are that good. Delegating to them has got to become one of my skills as long as they allow me to host our gatherings. AND I LOVE HOSTING OUR GATHERINGS.
So I titled this with a line from an old HEE-HAW song, and if you are too young to have seen it, or too old to remember it I would not be surprised if there are clips on YouTube.
In closing, I guess I want to share that just as loving deeply can cause pain when we are confronted with loss, possible loss or even little frustrations, we can rejoice that we have known great love. Not unlike that old HEE-HAW song about gloom, despair and agony can make us laugh. During the Holidays I was able to share this with my in laws who are very much my family after almost 30yrs. Hopefully, they are not disappointed to be stuck with me, BECAUSE THEY ARE...BWAHAHAHAHA!
Thanks for reading, Geri
NOTE: Health issues are resolving and we will be making some health related changes around here so that we increase our chances of not having to leave one or the other over night in a hospital. May this post encourage you and your great love to do the same.
On the week before Christmas, we thought we were going to move slowly and purposefully toward the big family gathering set for Christmas eve. I had planned ahead for the dinner because I knew I would still be recovering from the surgery we had started calling "having my tires rotated", so besides preparing for dinner, the Internet was my shopping center. I just had to wait for the presents to be delivered to our door and hubby would wrap all but one: his from me. So for that gift I went the extra mile and had Amazon wrap it. With a personal card!!!(Don't Judge me!) Worth every penny. My gift from hubby came the same day, he hid it in the guest house. We always decide to get something big for each other that we both like and call it our only gift(the turkey smoker). It's not always big in size or $$, just big because it is for both of us. Then, even tho' it happens every year, he surprises me with something else, and I do the same. This year I realized I needed to use his surprise gift for dinner Christmas eve and since we don't usually open our gifts until Christmas morning, I had to put on my begging shoes and give up the surprise. So I told him, "Honey I got you a coffee bean grinder, and I need you to open it so we can use it on Christmas eve" ... big smile, batting eyes, and the obligatory southern belle "please?".
Honestly, wouldn't you think that would mean I got to open my surprise? Sheesh.
Anyway, things were going fairly well with my recovery: I couldn't drive, couldn't lift anything, needed help getting dressed, and with other little details of day to day living, but I felt great for the most part. Then hubby started not feeling well. Through a series of fortunate events, a day of Dr visits kept me away from home, with him, and away from the pain meds. Good thing because we had to return to Longview from Castle Rock to take hubby to ER, and I had to drive. Good thing I was off the pills long enough to drive.
We were in a situation that was either going to mean an emergency surgery that was dangerous due to poor vitals, or everything was going to be OK after having some IV antibiotics. These were our choices. Terrifying or no big deal. We are hospital professionals because of my cancer history, my daughter had a terrible infection when she was 10 months old and severe anemia during her early teens, my son spent several post football game hours in the ER and when he was younger they began to know his name at the main desk,I started to count the stitches but gave up when I lost count. I never had to leave any of my family in the hospital over night. We have been there over night waiting, but I never walked out of the hospital leaving them to stay in an unfamiliar room, saying goodbye and letting go of their hand. I was always the one in the bed.
Roland finally saw the surgeon and she eliminated the dangerous surgical option, but he had to stay on the IV for over 24 hours and that was gonna put him at the wrong time to come home the next day so we knew we were looking at at least two nights in the hospital. Under normal circumstances ( whatever that means) I would have called my daughter and stayed at the hospital, but by now I was definitely feeling the need to pay attention to my own recovery. Pain and fatigue + sleeping in a chair = TROUBLE. But as I said goodbye I was overwhelmed by the pain of deep love. Yes, I said the pain of deep love. I didn't want to leave. We tried to convince ourselves I could stay but ultimately this wisdom won out: I have to take care of myself because he could not, whereas he would be taken care of there, and I could not at home.
So at home, alone, I began to realize how amazing love is, how I didn't want to leave the bedside of the guy who spills little drops of coffee by the coffeemaker EVERY SINGLE DAY, the guy who does a million little things that drive me crazy, I didn't want to be away. How wonderful to feel love so strongly it hurts. I cried and am crying now remembering it.
I had been given a candle that makes a crackling noise like a fire as a housewarming gift just a few weeks prior. I thought if I could have the candlelight and that noise maybe it would feel like he was home and had built a fire for me like he has so many times before. (I was actually purchasing another candle like that one when he came in the store to tell me I had to drive him back to the ER.) It was comforting.
The brand is WoodWick just in case you want one. Not the cure for loneliness but it is a comforting sound.
He stayed two nights and they let him come home. Then on Christmas eve morning he ended up back in the ER this time with my son driving because I had taken meds and couldn't drive, I smoked a turkey - alone, none of my plans for dinner turned out exactly how I planned them (maybe one day I'll tell how there was an unplanned fire - which had nothing to do with smoking the turkey), since Roland was not working he changed the time to three hours earlier than I had figured for a UPS family Christmas eve. And as badly as I want to blame him for my overwhelmnity I can't. There were offers to help - but I don't know how to delegate help - I gotta just have people take over. I am gonna work on that tho', because I have excellent helpers. I mean top notch helpers! These people are like the guys who change the tires on the race cars, help me out NASCAR friends - are those guys called the pit crew? Anyway these people are that good. Delegating to them has got to become one of my skills as long as they allow me to host our gatherings. AND I LOVE HOSTING OUR GATHERINGS.
So I titled this with a line from an old HEE-HAW song, and if you are too young to have seen it, or too old to remember it I would not be surprised if there are clips on YouTube.
In closing, I guess I want to share that just as loving deeply can cause pain when we are confronted with loss, possible loss or even little frustrations, we can rejoice that we have known great love. Not unlike that old HEE-HAW song about gloom, despair and agony can make us laugh. During the Holidays I was able to share this with my in laws who are very much my family after almost 30yrs. Hopefully, they are not disappointed to be stuck with me, BECAUSE THEY ARE...BWAHAHAHAHA!
Thanks for reading, Geri
2 comments:
I have to edit my Blog as I remembered indeed having to leave my son in the hospital when he was nine days old. Actually I could have stayed but I was just too exhausted myself and the hospital, at that time, was only providing a chair not a bed. So it was a choice. Had I believed the standard advice that they grow up too quickly, I would have stayed. I wish I had stayed.
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