Gift from Heaven

Julian arrived around 7:45 AM on Wednesday, April 27.  He's a big boy - 8 pounds 9 ounces - and absolutely adorable.  When I held him for the first time, he was about 8 hours old, and touching him, feeling his baby-soft skin and smelling his sweet baby smell, again reminded me of the goodness of God.  My daughter-in-law is amazing; she is less than 5 feet tall, and carrying such a large baby was uncomfortable, but she never complained.  As we sat together the night before the scheduled C-section, she rubbed her large belly and said that she was savoring the last few hours of having that new life inside her womb, knowing that she would be holding him in less than 12 hours.  No longer would she feel him kicking and moving inside her; no longer would she carry his weight; no longer would she wonder what he looked like.  The pain of the C-section produced life, a wonderful new little life that is welcomed by brothers and parents, aunts and uncles, grandparents and cousins; a life for which God has a plan and a purpose; a life created in the image of God.
Baby and mother are coming home from the hospital tomorrow, their stay extended a day because big brother Benny had a fever yesterday.  Adjustments will be made to accommodate a new family member, and it won't be easy, but it will be done.  A new human being with a unique personality will turn the household upside-down!

Welcome to our family, Julian, precious gift from above.  The fingerprints of God have made you, and He has delivered you safely to this world. 

April 27, 2011

In about 36 hours, I'll be able to hold my grandson for the first time.  He still hasn't made his appearance, and unless he does before 7:15 AM on April 27, he'll show up then or shortly after!  My gorgeous daughter-in-law is huge with child; being 4' 10" tall doesn't give the baby much room to grow but OUT FRONT!  How that girl manages to pick up a 21-month old and hold him over that large belly is beyond me!  But she does! 

I'm packing my overnight bag tonight; I'll be staying at my son's house in Raleigh Tuesday night so they can get to the hospital at 5:15 in the morning.  I'll take care of my two small grandsons for the day, getting to do what I can't do on a regular basis because I work full-time, but it will be a joy to do so.  Two little boys will be very surprised later in the day to see that their mother doesn't have a large belly any longer and that the baby brother they've been expecting has actually arrived.  The oldest, Niland, is 3 years and 9 months, so he'll be able to understand that much, but Benny, at 21 months, won't have a clue. 

Through the miracle of technology, I've already seen a photograph of my unborn grandson at 7 months gestation - a 3-D photograph of him in the womb which shows what he actually looks like!  Amazing!  But to be able to hold him and touch that newborn skin and smell his sweet baby smell will be heavenly.  After the loss of my oldest sister, the gift of new life is even more precious, profound and mysterious. 

Children are little bits of heaven wrapped in runny noses, dirty faces, slobbery kisses, and mighty hugs.  If you still have little ones in your house or life, don't wish them to grow up quickly.  It will happen all too soon.  I noticed my age typed on a prescription the other day - 61 - and it hit me that I'm really that old, but I don't know how it crept up on me.  When did I get to be 61 years old?  A new grandson, as with each grandchild my children have given to me, reminds me that life is fleeting, yet God knows the number of our days.

I'll post a photo of the new baby - who has yet to be named - as soon as I can find the time.  Please pray for a safe delivery by C-section on Wednesday, April 27. 

Nature's Wrath

Living in North Carolina has its benefits -- mild winters with little or no snow (usually!), a long growing season, and proximity to beautiful shorelines -- but the state has its share of misfortune when hurricanes blow in, dumping copious amounts of rain and spawning tornadoes as they bend trees like rubber bands.  That's when we usually see tornadoes around here -- as spinoffs of thunderstorms around hurricanes.  But this past weekend saw a unique blend of weather that created supercells that spawned tornadoes like we've never seen before.  With a cold front approaching from the west, strong winds ahead of the front pulling up moisture-laden air from the south, and upper-level winds that went in different directions, the result was catastrophic.  At least 25 tornadoes touched down in the eastern part of the state; multiple tornadoes were on the ground simultaneously.  As the storms barrelled across the state with alarming speed, I watched the local news station weather people struggle to stay on top of events as the situation unfolded.  It was very stressful watching, knowing that people's lives, livelihoods, vehicles, and homes were being destroyed.  Even the capital city of Raleigh was not spared.  The tornadoes were powerful, staying on the ground for miles upon miles, sucking up everything in their paths.  I guess the only good thing that can be said about this past Saturday is that the tornadoes occurred during the daylight hours; if it had been dark and people had been asleep, the results would have been ten times worse. 
In a Raleigh trailer park, 3 boys were killed instantly when a large tree fell on the home.  Also injured were the mother and baby sister of one of the boys.  The baby died Tuesday of her injuries.  The children were cousins.  Their funerals were today.  I can't imagine the grief their parents and family are carrying; mine at the loss of my sister pales by comparison.  The total death toll in the state now stands at 24, but it could still climb higher as many people were critically injured.  I'm praying that it doesn't go any higher.  The dead range in age from 3 months to 92 years 
Flags throughout the state are flying at half-staff today in honor of the victims of the tornadoes.  Houses, buildings, and barns can be rebuilt, but the lives lost are gone forever.
There is a chance of severe thunderstorms this evening, but we've been assured by the weather people that the conditions are not conducive to producing what we saw on Saturday.  I'm hoping for some rain at my house; Saturday's storms fortunately went around our area, and we received little rain, no wind, and no hail.  The storms were concentrated and violent and their paths were narrow, leaving property destroyed and yet leaving other places, sometimes across the street, unscathed.  The photos below show areas of Raleigh where the tornado wasn't even on the ground but was about 15 feet above the ground, which resulted in snapped trees toppled onto buildings.  Where the tornado actually touched the ground, entire homes were blown apart and left a heap of rubble, or they were torn assunder and scattered as far as the wind could throw them.  These are photos I took while driving around with my husband the day after the storms.

There is so much for which to be thankful as I sit and enjoy the peaceful beauty of my house and yard.  My prayers are for those who suffered the loss of so much, many of whom had so little, on a spring day in North Carolina when Mother Nature displayed her meanest side.

Grief

It's been a long time since I posted on this blog, and much has happened, but I've been hesitant to come here and share my grief.  Grief is personal.  Grief is deep and often incomprehensible.  Grief will visit all of us sooner or later. 
My grief stems from the death of my oldest sister, Mary-jane, who lived in a small town in Kansas.  She had multiple medical problems, but her death was unexpected.  Sadly, her family didn't see the need to contact her sisters and brother until her final days, and this added to our grief.  Mary-jane suffered a massive stroke, and her family failed to recognize its seriousness and did nothing about contacting emergency medical technicians until it was too late.  She was unresponsive and had to be intubated and taken to the hospital in Topeka, where she was put on life support for about three days.  When the decision was made to remove her from life support, she suprisingly breathed on her own.  We were notified that she had died when in reality she had not.  However, her prognosis was very poor, and she ultimately did die in the early morning hours of April 5, about 36 hours after she was removed from life support.  She would have turned 65 on April 10. 
The rollercoaster ride of being told about her stroke, her prognosis, her 'death', discovering that she was still alive, and her actual death was exhausting and extremely emotionally draining.  I wouldn't wish this series of events on anyone; it was the most excruciating personal event I've endured in my 61 years.  With the knowledge of her death came the news that there would be no memorial service, no funeral, for my oldest sister -- and this added to the pain of her loss.  Her family's decision ruled, but it left her sisters and brother, who live scattered across the US, with no closure, no chance to say goodbye, and no opportunity to comfort each other.  The pain was real and deep.
How does one deal with loss?  Mary-jane was my sister, but she was a sibling, not a spouse.  Surely the loss of people in one's life has varying degrees of depth and pain, yet her death was -- and still is -- difficult to take.  In the days that followed her death, in an attempt to find closure outside the usual path of a funeral, I purchased a rose bush called "Beloved", planted it in a large pot outside where I can see it every day, and added a small statue of a reclining fairy that my daughter had given me.  Then I wrote a eulogy to her and shared it with my siblings.  Those two simple acts have aided me in closure of an event that seems so far removed from me yet extremely intimate.  I needed to see her to know that she truly is gone, but that will never happen.  My two other sisters also wrote eulogies and shared them with me, and thus we have remembered our oldest sister.  Sometimes the reality that she is dead hits me, and I want to cry again, and sometimes I do cry.  But even as I grieve my sister's death, I anticipate the birth of my son's third son, another grandchild.  My beautiful daughter-in-law is scheduled for a C-section on April 27 if she doesn't go into labor before then.  The thought of holding this new life in my arms comforts me. 
We all must die sooner or later.  For my sister, it seemed that it was sooner, but yet it was later than many people.  Remember that each day of life is a gift from God; embrace each day and run with it, loving those who may not be loveable all the time.  We have only the second that is the present.