Aidan's appendix ruptured early last week as we were hurling headlong into two weeks of a tightly scheduled get-ready-to-go-and-eek-out-every-last-moment-as-a-family-of-four mode. That slowed us down in some ways and challenged our productivity in others. Mel, of course, was graceful through it all. I, having the night shift at the hospital, sat and "slept" in awe of my oldest son who in just a few short moments will leave home and start a life with a little less me--ouch.
Last night, Ava woke me at 3:30 holding her nose as its bloody drip threatened her shirt and pillow case (how unfortunate if it had to be washed and lose its smell). I walked her to the bathroom where we sat on the edge of the tub and talked and held hands while she dutifully held the Kleenex to her nose. I rinsed out her shirt and her pillow case and tucked her into bed.
And my youngest is waiting seven and a half thousand miles away for his parents to afford the beautiful inconvenience of love. Four more days, yäne wänd lj. Four more days.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
Sometime order is the sense we make of the chaos. Phyllis Diller once said, " do you know how to make God laugh?"... "Tell Him your plans".. The neet thing is that He really does understand Jer. 29:11, even when we are limited to our pitiful attempts at order. You'll be trekking to Africa, while I'm pushing the little red wagon across the mountains and plains. Hopefully we can meet us at some point.
ReplyDeleteYour post is beautifully touching, Greg, your words brought out my tears. I am so happy for you, Melissa, Aidan and Ava...and all of us. May you enjoy safe travels, smooth flights, and the Lord's joy and peace as you bring your youngest son home.
ReplyDelete