October 7 – “Chancho”

Cailyn has been around with us for a few days this week.  And as usual, I am learning more and more about the world according to a three-year-old girl. 

As we snuggled after she woke up in the morning, Cailyn shared yet another of her new words with me.  I asked what she wanted for breakfast, thinking she would go for one of her old favorites, frozen waffles.  She likes the blueberry kind.  Not me, by the way.  I prefer the plain old waffle flavored waffles myself.  She pondered the depths of the question for a long few moments before announcing, “I want for breakfast … chancho.”  Wait.  What?  I asked her to repeat it several times, and it came out exactly the same, though with varying degrees of chuckle accompanying it.  I finally could hold back my curiosity no longer.  I asked, “So what is chancho?”  With a flighty laugh, she assured me it was food.  In fact she added, “It tastes like apple pie stuff.”  Apple pie stuff.  Now that sounded right tasty, so I asked where I could get some of this chancho stuff.  Sadly, she informed me, “Sorry DadDad.  We only have it at our house, at my Mommy’s house.”  Ah, alas.  Would you save me some, April?  I’d really like to taste some of that chancho.

Later on that morning she was sitting in my lap at my desk as Facebook came up on the computer.  The very first picture in the new feed stream was a dog.  Cailyn immediately said, “Aw, poor doggie.”  Puzzled as to the depth of her emotion, I asked why she said that.  She replied, “The doggy just looks so sad.”  Now, that’s when I saw that this particular doggie had just died, and the owner was honoring its memory by posting the picture.  So wait.  Cailyn IS just three years old, isn’t she?  And she CAN’T read yet, can she?

She was in rare form at the wedding we attended last night.  I performed the ceremony and Nathan was a groomsman for one of the fire fighters, so Cailyn knew many of the people there.  And of course they were all trying to talk to her and interact in any way they could.  But Cailyn had eyes for one person only, and it wasn’t her DadDad.  It wasn’t her Daddy, either, although she had promised her Mommy that she wouldn’t cry out to Daddy or DadDad during the ceremony even if she wanted to talk to them.  No.  Cailyn had eyes only for the star of the show, the Princess, the Bride.  I told Nathan she was taking notes for her own wedding.  Isn’t that what girls start to do from the time they are born?  He wasn’t too happy about that thought.  He figures she’s too young to be thinking such thoughts … she’s not thirty yet.  The highlight of the evening came on the dance floor when the bride actually took Cailyn’s hands and danced with her.  Cailyn was in heaven.  That was better than Disneyworld.  She was dancing with an actual princess.  She rode home with me from the wedding – Cailyn, not the bride – and she never stopped talking about it.  She even tried singing some of the songs.  I don’t know the words, myself, but what I heard for the 45 minute drive home was, “To the right.  To the left.  Right.  Right.  Left.  Left.  Kick.  Kick.  Stomp your foot.  Hop.  Hop.  Hop.”  Any of that sound familiar? 

Psalms 33:20 says, “We wait in hope for the Lord; he is our help and our shield.”

Father, walk with the bride and groom on their journey, and when they are ready bless them with the joys of a child of their own.  Amen.

October 6 – “Heart healthy”

I brought my uncle home from the hospital yesterday.  He called around 7:15 a.m. to “put me on notice” that he was planning to come home that afternoon sometime.  It wasn’t until after four that he finally called back to say “I’m back in my room, so you can come any time.”  In an effort to determine with how much haste I should make my way that way, I asked if he had already been released.  His reply was cryptic, “I’m back in my room.  I figure there’s nothing else for me to do here.  That’s close enough.”  OK.  Close enough.  I was in WalMart at the time, so I finished up my purchase (some toner for my printer) and headed on out to UTMB. 

Sure enough, he was packed and ready to go when I arrived.  But they had not yet done his discharge instructions.  We talked while we waited.  He said he was really hungry, but no sooner were the words out of his mouth than his supper tray arrived.  So he munched his way through his roast beef.  Finally the nurse came in with the papers and with his final “shot for the road.”  It was a blood thinner and the needle was stuck into his stomach.  Ouch.  I heard the final instructions: “You are to eat a heart healthy diet and increase your level of physical activity.”  He nodded his uh-huh’s and okay’s, and she approved his release, pending arrival of transportation.  But when she opened the door a wheelchair was already there.  No driver, though.  Apparently budget cuts meant that I got to drive him down.  WooHoo, let’s go.  I managed to behave myself all the way down to the front door, and I left him by the curb and went for the car. 

Finally we were on the road.  Headed home.  Well, at least to our house where his car was parked.  I offered to get Nathan to help me bring it over, but he insisted he hadn’t had any pain killers and he was fine to drive.  As we approached 61^st street he made another decision.  He asked me to take him to Jack-in-the Box.  With those final words of the exit interview ringing in my ears – “heart healthy diet … heart healthy diet” – I pulled into the drive-through and he ordered his … ready for this one? … bacon ultimate cheeseburger.  Did I mention that this man was the very first male role model in my life outside of my Dad?  I think I’m getting hungry …

Psalms 33:16-19 says, “No king is saved by the size of his army; no warrior escapes by his great strength.  A horse is a vain hope for deliverance; despite all its great strength it cannot save.  But the eyes of the Lord are on those who fear him, on those whose hope is in his unfailing love, to deliver them from death and keep them alive in famine.”

Father, help Uncle Jerry heal quickly.  Amen.

October 5 – “Rehearsing”

Yesterday was the wedding rehearsal of a fire fighter buddy of Nathan’s.  He asked me to do the ceremony and Nathan is one of the groomsmen.  The wedding is not until Saturday afternoon, though.  The whole affair will take place at the groom’s parents’ house somewhere in the middle of nowhere outside of Santa Fe (That’s Santa Fe, Texas, not New Mexico).  It is actually a very pretty venue.  They own lots of land, and it is all very well-kept.  The ceremony is scheduled to be at the side of a large pond under a canopy homemade from tree limbs and such.  Then the reception will be under a big tent they have rented for the occasion.  That is, if the big cold front that is expected to sweep through with high winds and cold temperatures doesn’t blow the whole thing away.  Now that would be a spectacle for Funniest Wedding Videos.  Hope someone brings a video camera just in case.  The groom already told me that even if that happens, the three of us are still going to be standing out there by that pond.  He is definitely ready for the whole thing to be over with. 

They do have a wedding coordinator.  That’s always a potential headache for someone.  I have worked with some in the past that have been virtual slave-drivers, pushing and demanding like it was their own wedding.  Others, though, like the ones at the San Luis Hotel that I work with, are great to work with and have become friends.  This one was somewhere in the middle, I guess.  She had her moments when it was evident that somewhere inside her lurked that inner ogre just struggling to get out.  For the most part, though, she maintained control quite well.  She got everyone placed out by the pond, then got distracted by a question from a bystander.  I seized my chance to race through the service itself and let the wedding party know what I would be doing.  I finished in record time, so when she turned back to us she was amazed that we had been waiting for her.  We’ll see how she does when the chips are down come Saturday afternoon.

I missed the rehearsal dinner because we had our home group Bible study last night.  Cailyn joined us for home group so her mom could go with Daddy to the dinner at Luigi’s, a very nice restaurant here in Galveston.  Nathan called at 9:30 to check on her.  They had not yet been served their food.  I could have just gone over then, I guess.  But I don’t like to eat that late at night.  Getting too old for rapid digestion.  Cailyn ended up just spending the night, so I don’t know how late they stayed.  That’s another “getting too old for” thing – staying up late at night.  My body has completely rest for waking up at 6 a.m.  That means it’s ready for bed around ten, though.  I’m becoming my father.

Psalms 33:13-15 says, “From heaven the Lord looks down and sees all mankind; from his dwelling place he watches all who live on earth — he who forms the hearts of all, who considers everything they do.”

Father, watch over the preparations for that wedding.  And maybe hold back the severity of that cold front just a bit until we can get it done.  Thanks.  Amen.

October 4 – “Attention span of a gnat”

I headed out west to pick up some things for Uncle Jerry at his house in Spanish Grant.  He was hoping to get out of the hospital yesterday, but he had some mail to get out and needed a check.  He also wanted me to bring him some more copies of the book he wrote.  He apparently found a new market among the hospital personnel.  Or maybe the other patients.  About the time I got nearly to WalMart he called to let me know he was staying in the hospital until at least Friday.  He found out he has to have a colonoscopy.  Apparently one of the top causes of blood clots is colon cancer.  None of the other tests he has had point to colon cancer, but when you are grasping at straws I guess you have to try everything.  I turned into the WalMart parking lot and headed back to his house again to get him some fresh clothes for the next few days. 

As I was leaving the hospital I ran into an old friend from high school.  OK, not that she is particularly old.  After all she was in my class so she is my age.  Wait.  I guess that means she is old, but don’t tell her that.  Actually Charlotte looked great.  We talked for a long time about her Mom who is going through Alzheimer’s stuff.  Her mom even goes to Libbie’s Place.  It’s always good to talk to someone who understands what you are going through. 

Last night I taught the youth group at church again.  There were two junior high girls and one early high school girl there this time.  Junior high.  Gotta love ‘em.  They have always been my favorite group to deal with.  Guess it’s because I’m so much like them.  Attention span of a gnat, but so much fun.  So unexpected.  They don’t even know where they are going next, so they are impossible to predict.  I’ve found that the best approach is to follow them into their madcap world wherever it leads and interact with them there.  It’s a whole lot easier to lead them back to the topic at hand than it is to yell at them from afar and try to maintain their attention.  Besides, they hear and retain a lot more than they are given credit for.  It can be a slippery slope, though.  You have to maintain a firm grip on whatever is left of your own sanity so you can actually make the point and assure them that Jesus can live in there, too.  Kind of like being a spy living with a cover identity.  Great challenge.  Great fun. 

Psalms 33:12 says, “Blessed is the nation whose God is the Lord, the people he chose for his inheritance.”

Father, I guess that says it all as far as politics goes.  Amen.

October 3 – “I’m so silly”

We had our first Neighbors Night Out for our end of the street last night.  The area from our house to the end of the street was barricaded off.  That’s not actually very much space – just two houses.  But it’s a start.  I met several folks I had seen but never had talked to.  One young family lives down at the other end of our street.  They had their little toddler on one of those backpack leashes.  Cute kid.  Another family had an actual dog on a leash.  I think it was a large Chihuahua, but I’m not sure.  It was definitely old, though.  And very compliant with the children who wanted to pet it.  Cailynn was with us for the event, and she was very excited when the fire truck pulled up.  Her Daddy wasn’t on it, but she was still quite animated.  She stared at it for a long time, carefully eyeing each fire fighter as he exited the vehicle.  Satisfied that her Daddy wasn’t hiding inside, she pointed and began her conversation with me.

Cailyn: “See that ladder?  What’s it for?”

Now even I could handle that one. 

Me: “To help the firemen get on the roof if a house is on fire, so they can put the fire out.”

She was already intensely listening.

Cailyn: “So the ladder helps Mercy?”

What?  That came hurtling out from within the deepest recesses of her three-year-old mind.  I had to ask.

Me: “Who’s Mercy?”

And of course she had an instant answer.  And she was quite sure of it.

Cailyn: “That’s what the ladder helps.”

And I was … baffled.

Me: “The ladder helps Mercy?”

Didn’t take long for her to kick in to that “tsk” mode for poor old DadDad who just never gets it.

Cailyn: “Yes, DadDad.  It helps save a cat.”

What?  Wait.  Where did the cat come in?

Me: “So the cat is Mercy?”

And the exasperation begins to build.  But she maintains her patience with the ignorant old man.  Cailyn can be very sweet that way.

Cailyn: “Yes DadDad.  And the house is Mercy when it has fire in it.”

The house?  Not helpful.  Now it is my confusion that is building.

Me: “The house is Mercy?”

I’m worried now that she won’t put up with me long enough for me to figure this one out.  But she tries again.

Cailyn: “Yes, DadDad.  And the ladder goes on the Mercy truck to help the cat and the house.”

The truck?  But … wait a second.  A light bulb is flickering in my brain finally.

Me: “So the truck is Mercy?”

I think she can sense that I’m about to get it.  Her eyes light up.  A big grin covers her face.

Cailyn: “Yes DadDad.  My Daddy drives the Mercy truck, but not that one.”

That cinches it.  I got this one now. 

Me: “Oh.  Your Daddy drives the emergency truck to emergencies like a house on fire or a cat stuck in a tree.”

The giggle says it all.  And as she frolics away to check out the little Chihuahua she adds:

Cailyn: “Yes, DadDad.  You’re so silly.”

And what more can I say? … I’m so silly.

Psalms 33:9-11 says, “For he spoke, and it came to be; he commanded, and it stood firm.  The Lord foils the plans of the nations; he thwarts the purposes of the peoples.  But the plans of the Lord stand firm forever, the purposes of his heart through all generations.”

Father, keep our plans in sync with yours.  Amen.

October 2 – “Becoming my Dad”

Here’s an update on my Uncle Jerry.  The doctors found “multiple blood clots,” so they convinced him that he has to stay through at least Wednesday until they get a handle on that.  They found nothing that explains the cough, though, and that was the only thing that really got him to the ER in the first place.  He was kind of frustrated about it.  I told him the cough was just God getting his attention enough to get him to go get his leg checked out so they could treat the clots.  Hey, he’s worked in stranger ways than that.

I think I might be becoming my Dad.  At the very least I got to play my Dad in a little family mini-drama the other day.  As Nathan and April were getting into their car to leave after picking up Cailyn, I noticed April’s inspection sticker was due.  Now, my Dad was always the one to point out our “need” in that area when Chris and I were young upstarts – college students who thought they had the world by the tail, invulnerable, on top of everything.  It didn’t matter how early in the month it was, if that sticker was on its last legal month number, my Dad would notice and point it out.  He also used to wait until the last minute, usually as we were loading up the car to leave, to open the hood and do a quick check of the internal operations.  Of course he knew what he was looking for.  If I tried that my kids would think I was trying to play some kind of prank on them, though I have no idea how that idea might have arisen in their minds.

I do know how to read a calendar, however, so the inspection sticker and the registration sticker are fair game for me to observe as far as I’m concerned. 

Thankfully we had just taken our car in and it had a fresh new one, so I didn’t have to be a hypocrite in pointing it out.  Not that I said anything.  I followed Dad’s lead.  I just tapped on it.  Loudly.  Over and over and over again.  April noticed the noise first as she was strapping Cailyn into her car seat.  She glanced in my direction, ever so slightly, and purposefully continued her motherly duties.  I held my gaze in her direction for a long several seconds.  Finally a grin escaped from the stoicism she was struggling to maintain.  She commented, “This is your daughter-in-law trying to ignore you.”  Got her.  She knew.  My task was done.  Of course she also said, “I still have another month.”  Holding on to the artificial one month grace period, I see.  Good luck with that.

Psalms 33:7-8 says, “He gathers the waters of the sea into jars; he puts the deep into storehouses.   Let all the earth fear the Lord; let all the people of the world revere him.”

Father, thank you for getting Uncle Jerry where he needs to be.  Kudos to your methodology.  You knew just what it would take to get his attention.  Amen.

October 1 – “Indomitable Unkie”

Our day today started around 12:15 this morning.  That’s Mom’s usual roaming time, but she was actually in bed.  This time it was my phone that started ringing.  I groggily reached for it and promptly dropped it on the floor.  I forgot that it was plugged in to the charger.  That meant I had to get out of bed and pick it up.  Awake now, I realized the call was from my uncle.  He lives alone here in Galveston, and his children are in far-away lands like Florida, New Jersey, and Illinois – places well-beyond even Texas.  My Dad’s younger brother, he was only nine or ten when Mom and Dad got married, so they had quite a hand in raising him.  He has been good about stopping by every so often to check on Mom’s health, and his canal home in Spanish Grant is out family site for taking youngsters fishing. 

So what in the world could Uncle Jerry want with us at midnight?  I finally managed to get the phone off the floor and unplugged so I could answer it.  He sounded fine, but his unusual request was, “How would you like to do an act of charity tonight?”  That was a strange one.  Quickly I asked what was wrong, and he explained that he had been feeling lousy for a few days, and had not gotten more than a few hours’ sleep because of a bad cough.  Then yesterday his leg had started to swell up.  Then it started to really hurt.  He waited until midnight before deciding that he might ought to have it checked out.  I assured him that he was probably right.  He has had a blood clot in his leg in the past, so that’s nothing to trifle with.  He was on his way over and wanted to know if I would ride with him to the emergency room, “just in case.” 

Well, absolutely.  I got dressed in a hurry and waited for him outside.  Very cool night, by the way.  In the low 60’s.  We made to the ER with him driving, but after he parked in the garage, he didn’t want me to get a wheelchair for him.  As a result it took us a long time to make the walk.  He was moving awfully slow and wincing with every step.  We did finally make it inside, and we were rushed right into a room.  After the customary vital signs and urine samples and blood draws and visits by medical students and x-rays, the doctor finally made it into the room around 3:20.  He said they were most concerned about the possible blood clot in the leg, but to be sure about it, they needed to do an ultra-sound.  “Unfortunately,” he explained in his best, you-can-trust-me-I’m-the-medical-professional voice, “the people who run the ultra-sound keep banker’s hours.  That test is something we cannot do until the morning.  Well, later in the morning.  And since it is already after 3:00, we will just keep you here until after we can that done.”  He assured us that they would also check out his chest and get him something for the cough and for the pain.  Jerry took that as a sign that I should go on home and get some sleep, so he gave me the keys to his car and said he would call me later after the tests and I could come get him then.  And then he lay back on his bed and closed his eyes.  Apparently I had been summarily dismissed.  I chuckled and gathered together his jacket and shorts, asking him what he wanted me to take with me.  “Just the car,” he responded, and followed up with a heartfelt thank you for coming with him.  It has always been hard for him to admit any kind of weakness, especially to one of his nephews.  After all he was always the “Indomitable Unkie.”  That was our nickname for him when we were growing up.  Just the “Unkie” part, though.  No way we knew how to say “Indomitable” much less what it meant.  I gave him a hug and got back to the house around 4 or so.  Chris was awake waiting for me, so I filled her in on what we knew so far before we both fell into an unsettled sleep.  At least that was something familiar.  We see, to be getting used to this “unsettled sleep” thing.  I’ll check on Jerry again when we get back from Houston.  I have an appointment with my rheumatologist at 11:00.  More medical fun.

Psalms 33:6 says, “By the word of the Lord were the heavens made, their starry host by the breath of his mouth.”

Father-Creator, please be with “Unkie” through this hospital visit.  Amen.