For most of the last two years I left town only to see my children and grandchildren, and even then, waited until it was almost to the point of necessity—a birth, celebration, graduation, babysitting opportunity or several events combined. They were precious years in the life of our family, the final two years of my Daddy’s well-lived life.
On March 3, 2006 I had a call from pregnant CB that she would be seeing a perinatologist the afternoon of March 9 because Roo was not growing as she should be. The plan was for Kak to fly home for Spring break (she was still in DC in college) on March 10, so the timing was perfect. Except that 45 minutes before I left town on March 9 Nannie called that she was on the way to the ER behind Dubbie, who had fallen down three steps and broken his hip and was sedated, lying on a board in an ambulance. A couple of hours later as I walked out of the ER into the parking lot where I could get better cell reception and speak privately, I got a “call” from Father God, who told me this would be the beginning of the ending. I experienced just about every emotion know to human flesh—fear, shock, despair, grief, longing, joy, sadness, love, hate, anger, loneliness, fatigue, and most of all the questioning.
Two weeks later Daddy was in a rehab wing, doing very well physically. Our relatively small family (four people in town including Kak) was exhausted, having sat with him day and night because of hospital psychosis which caused him to have hallucinations beginning at sundown every evening. His hip was repaired with a plate and screw, his balance was relatively good considering bad knees caused him to fall in the first place, and getting off all pain medication helped considerably with the psychosis. But we all knew that he just wasn’t the same as before. Statistics show that most elderly people do not survive complications of a broken hip. In fact most die within two years following a broken hip.
Daddy left the rehab wing with a walker and home healthcare and Nannie was under a tremendous weight of responsibility. As the only child, I was also feeling the squeeze. I pressed on toward the end of the semester thinking I could handle things so much better after my teaching schedule was relieved, the twins were born in late May or early June, and Daddy was more fully recovered. At that time Kak was back in DC at school, Muffin was working his usually 40 hours in 4 days so he could drive home for weekends on Thursday evening through Monday morning.
Therefore, since we are surrounded by such a great cloud of witnesses, let us throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles, and let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us.