Makin' Memories

Today my in-laws leave us and head to Florida to spend time with their son in West Palm Beach. I'm a little sad, because even though I know they'll be back to see us before they head back to Honduras, I'm really going to miss them. They are a sweet couple who wonder about my sanity on a regular basis but they love me in spite of my kookiness. My father-in-law has gotten a good laugh out of giving me some Honduran slang to use on my husband. I may actually get myself in real trouble one of these days! With their time here rapidly winding down, this past weekend we took a couple day trips to show them a little more of the country. Saturday we went to Hershey Chocolate World. A great time was had by all! What more can you want? Family time and chocolate!

Our children enjoyed posing with the Hershey Bar. 

My in-laws had a great time on the factory tour! 

And of course the singing cow sisters were a hit! 

I love the change of the seasons, but fall is always very bittersweet for me. I hate winter more than any other season, and fall's job is to get the earth ready for winter. But, I do love the beauty of the landscape, and we took the opportunity to show my in-laws how beautiful Lancaster County can get on the way back from Hershey! 

Then on Sunday we took a ride on the Wilmington & Western Railroad with some good friends. We all had a wonderful time watching the scenery from the windows of a coach pulled by an old diesel engine. We reached Mt Cuba after about 20 minutes on the train, and had a picnic lunch at the lovely picnic ground the railroad maintains for the tourists that ride the rails. The next few pictures are a sample of the views we enjoyed on our little trip. 

We enjoyed a very nice picnic lunch at Mt Cuba. 

A beautiful covered bridge scene that seemed right out of a painting! 

This old house tugged at my imagination as I thought of the families that may have lived there when the train made its daily runs so many years ago. I could almost see the children who once lived there standing on the hill side waving at the engineer as the train steamed past. 

When we arrived back at the station, we took the time to snap some family pictures. The ones I will share with you here, are the ones that show the fun loving side of us! We were trying to get a mommy and daddy only picture when the little guy sauntered up and squeezed himself in between us like he belonged there. It made for lots of laughs and a cute memory. 

Our goofy children are hard to get a "nice" picture of. No matter how hard I try, their personalities always show through! I am told that's how it's supposed to be, but just once I'd like a "nice, normal" family picture! I may as well give up on that notion though, because we just aren't normal! 

This last picture pulls at my heart. It's the first picture of its kind taken of Martin's parents. When I showed them this photo, my mother-in-law smiled and smiled. Then asked if I'd be able to give her a copy. I was only too happy to say "But, of course!"

Finding Hope

My last post made me cry and I don't like crying, so I wanted to write about laughter this time around. But the truth is, laughter is a rare commodity in my life right now. I decided about six months after the accident that it would not define who we are as a family. The brain injury that had changed everything for all of us, would not change us... Well, that is laughable. You don't go through an experience like that and not have it change you. It changed me in ways that were good and bad. An example of a good change, I am now much more sympathetic to people with chronic pain and depression. An example of a bad change, is that I cannot get on a Ferris wheel or a roller coaster anymore. The last time I was on a Ferris wheel, I recited the 23rd Psalm and the Lord's Prayer continuously to keep the panic at bay. I blamed it on getting older, but the truth is, all I saw was our broken bodies on the ground as the ride for some unknown reason fell apart. It isn't logical. I'm not the one that had the injury, but that's one way I have changed. I didn't want to, but I changed. I get angry at the changes and decide I'm not going to let them define me, but I'm still not getting on that Ferris wheel again!

I love to laugh. I miss laughing so hard that I have tears rolling down my cheeks and sounding like I need a breathing treatment. I miss the jokes my husband used to play on me. Recently, though he's started again, and I love it. My last post was a bit depressing as I went back and read it, but it needed said. This time, I want to point out that healing is still happening. It's excruciatingly slow. We measure the healing by months now. Not days or even weeks. I look at what was happening six months or a year ago and can see a difference. It might be something very small, but I grasp any evidence of healing with both hands and hold on tight. I know that things will  never go back to the way they were, but with God's help and a lot of faith and prayer, we may even be able to make our dream to serve street kids in Honduras a reality. The last few weeks just thinking about the future scared me to death and sent me into a panic attack. Yesterday in church, we heard about how Jesus called Peter to get out of the boat and walk on the water. We heard how Peter forgot to keep his eyes off the waves and on Jesus and started to sink. And how Jesus lifted him up out of the water, and together they climbed back into the boat. That's pretty basic. There was actually more said than that, but this particular sermon helped me realize that I had taken my eyes off Jesus. I was watching the waves instead. Yesterday, I remembered to look to Him again, and for the first time in awhile, I felt something that felt a lot like hope. I don't know what the future holds, but I know that He's got this. 

Keep Going...

I have a lot on my mind tonight and I'm finding it hard to sleep so I'm sharing on the internet. Probably not smart, but here I go... My husband's struggle with his brain injury over the past 3 and a half years has been hard for all of us, but it has almost done me in to see how he struggles from day to day. I had to sit and listen to a letter today from a professional who should have known better, saying things like "you'd think by now there would have been some improvement" almost as though we are making things up. These moments are the moments when I want to curl up and cry. This person has no idea of the anguish we have been through and only knows what they see in the files. The day in, day out pain and knowing there really are no more options. The medications have been ineffective at best. And causing more damage at worst. We have been referred once again to a head ache clinic but really, what can they do that hasn't been done? I know God has never left us down but at this low point, I wonder, is this what's left for us? The constant struggle to feel "normal"? Whatever normal is. He "looks fine". I look fine. But we aren't. He's in constant pain and I'm trying to hold it all together for one more day. I'm not trying to complain. I know there are people out there worse off than I. Women who had to say goodbye to their men on that hospital bed. I know I'm fortunate and blessed, but every so often I need to cry for what we've lost. For the loss of that daddy and husband who didn't come home that rainy Monday, May 7, 2012. For the loss of our "normal" life. And for the loss of our children's innocence because what always "happens to somebody else" had suddenly happened to us. Now they know it can and they're afraid it will again. I cry because it's all I can do. Then I pull myself together, dry my tears, pray for the strength I need to get through one more day. And He always comes through. Nothing has changed. But we can keep going. That's all that matters.

The Unexpected

Apparently my heavenly Father decided I needed another lesson in taking things as they come this week. Sunday night, a tooth that has been bothering me off and on blew into a tooth ache that made me wish I had never been born, and turned me into a crying baby girl who just had her chocolate stolen out of her hand. I counted my breaths as I reclined on my bed, then when I lost count, I counted the beats in the music that was playing from my cell phone beside me. Not even my favorite worship song could get my mind off the pain, so I started reading. I have no idea what the book was about. I do remember the writing of it was almost painful to read in itself, so it didn't last long. My dear husband was beside himself, as he does not remember me being in quite so much pain since childbirth, and I handled that a tiny bit better than I was handling this. Finally after 2 prescription  pain pills, some numbing gel, and pure exhaustion, I was able to sleep. I had a dentist appointment at noon Monday.  I was still in pain, but not quite as bad as the night before, so I drove myself there, and before I knew it they had me in the chair, taking X-rays, and pictures. The dentist herself came in, and said, "yeah, it looks like it's your wisdom tooth that's causing the problem, so we're going to go in and pop that out of there, and you'll be feeling better in no time!" My head came up and my pain-fogged brain made it's first big decision of the day when it screamed "RUN!" I stayed in the chair, mainly because I was too tired to follow orders, and asked, "You're doing this now?" She looked into my wide eyes, and smiled. "Yup!" My head whirled, my blood pressure was rising, and I was approaching a state of sheer panic. And everything I wanted to say, got stuck because I have some self-respect and a 30-something year old woman can't just start screaming for mommy in the dentist's chair. But, oh how I wanted to! With shaking hands and a pounding heart, I explained that this procedure was a bit unexpected, and could I have a minute. After talking it over with my dentist, I realized this was probably the best way to not have any more nights like the night before, so I agreed and signed the papers that were needed. Within minutes the whole process was over, and my tooth was gone! It was all quite painless! I was surprised! I paid the bill, and headed off to work. I had no less than 5 people ask what I was doing there. I explained patiently, that my mother milked cows the day she had teeth pulled, and I come from hardy stock. Two hours into my shift, I realized that either the stock wasn't as hardy in the next generation, or my Novocaine was wearing off. A sub was found and after 2 hours of work, I was sent home to rest. As Ma Ingalls always said, "All's well that ends well." and I have come off my first traumatic dental visit with no extra phobias. I think. I have also learned that with Jesus and Ibuprofen, (in that order) I can handle most anything!