Seriously?
As we were wrapping up the final week of summer 2012, I look back and hope Harrison, Houston and Hamilton had a good one. I worked crazy hours in order for me to be with them during the lazy summer days. Summer was going great! They were, as I was told by a very southern friend, "brown as biscuits". That was a new one to me, but they were very tan; SPF 50 and all. I think we had fun.
It was late June early July when I got that phone call, the one we all fear as we enter early parenthood. "Erika, Meme is in the hospital. She is undergoing surgery in the morning." My grandfather had called me to inform me that my grandmother was admitted to the hospital, and she was going to undergo surgery the following day. I called her to see where she was in her journey and how she was feeling. When she answered the phone, I knew it was not good. She informed me that she was in terrible pain, and she hoped that the intravenous Morphine would "kick in soon". I asked her if she was scared and she said that she was. Seriously?!
A little history...
My paternal grandparents are everything grandparents should be. Every Valentine's Day, St. Patrick's Day, Easter, Christmas, Birthday, etc. they sent cards, white chocolate suckers in the shape of hearts, four leaf clovers... Even with my children there were birthday cards, Christmas presents, and gifts just because. And, let's not forget the infamous Christmas package of cookies, candies and homemade Chex Mix. Growing up my brother, Gordon, would hide the Chex Mix; every year! Once my husband tasted Meme's Chex mix guess what he did with it? He hid it!! Her box of goodies had homemade chocolate chip cookies, chocolate covered cherries, chocolate covered peanuts, peppermint and spearmint barks, mini pecan pies, chocolate covered pretzels. I am sure there was more. My "Meme" even smelled like a grandmother; sweet and comforting. Everything about her is amazing, sweet and kind; even down to her handwriting. She has this amazingly perfectly readable cursive. That part of who I am was manifested by her unfaltering presence. No matter what happened with my nuclear family, she and my grandfather continued to be a strong presence in my life. She never faltered, never walked out, never chose something better. She and my grandfather are the connection I have to that part of my blood. When I learned she was sick, I scheduled a flight after I got the older boys taken care of, so I could be by her side. There is one airline that lands in Springfield, Mo from Nashville, TN-Delta. Taking my sweet Hamilton with me, we were ready to kick cancer's a**! Only it wasn't that easy. It was worse than I had originally thought. They could not determine the origin of the cancer, prolonging the treatment. I remember staring at the ceiling in one of her guest rooms, not being able to catch my breath. I had picked sleeping Hamilton out of his portable crib, hoping his warmth would help me realize that through struggles there is light. I thought that her home is not the same without her in it. I beat myself up for not making Thanksgiving the year before, because of new companies that needed attention, and careers that needed time. Man, I hated missing Thanksgiving. I hate that we put a new company that was taking shape and my career before family; lessons learned. I don't know what the future holds. I just know that we are tackling this cancer thing a day at a time. If it were only the cancer she was facing, we would be golden. Cancer sucks. Watching her struggle, fight and persevere to regress is the most helpless feeling in the world. God, please take away her pain, please hold her in your arms as she fights this evil mutation.
As we got back to Nashville my career skyrockets. I am so thankful that I am blessed to have the opportunities to advance as I have in my career and be able to be with my boys. They don't have to sacrifice, because Mommy is "making a difference".
I was getting my hair done last Saturday, when my feet were taken out from under me. Not really, they were actually reclined in a very comfy "hair-washing" chair. I know it is crazy!!! I know it is crazy!! But, I was getting my hair rinsed out, when this sweet little "Gabby" was planning on making Lasagna with her mom that night because her dad was out of town. I don't know why, but hearing her innocence and plans of making Lasagna with her mom brought tears to my eyes and made me fight so hard not to cry. Lasagna?! Seriously?! Why was it, that Lasagna made me think of my Adalynne Dior in heaven? Why was it that those plans ripped my heart out? If I say so myself, I am a very good cook; even, if Houston will not eat any of my concoctions. I make a mean lasagna, meatballs and red sauce, and stuffed shells. I know, southern belle and all!!! I know that those are memories I will never make with Adalynne. Plain and simple it made me sad, so very heart wrenchingly sad. I can spoil all of my little "nieces", but there will never be another Adalynne Dior.
The following day I took my three little boys to change out the flowers. It was the first time Hamilton had been to his big sister's grave as a walker. It was so heart warming to watch my three boys decorate their sister's marker. Once the big boys were loaded up in "Big Black" I lost it. Hamilton and I were taking Adalynne's sun-faded flowers to the garbage. I tried to get it all out in my two hundred yard journey. I tried to purge all of those feelings of loss, sorrow and longing. I am reminded in my moments of utter devastation that I am blessed. Hamilton, God love him, looked at me like I was crazy. I looked back at his inquisitive eyes and smiled. What else could I have done? That is when he put his head on my shoulder, as if to say "Mom, it will be okay. Adalynne sent me here to heal your broken heart." I pieced together my heart and we went to guitar lessons.
It was late June early July when I got that phone call, the one we all fear as we enter early parenthood. "Erika, Meme is in the hospital. She is undergoing surgery in the morning." My grandfather had called me to inform me that my grandmother was admitted to the hospital, and she was going to undergo surgery the following day. I called her to see where she was in her journey and how she was feeling. When she answered the phone, I knew it was not good. She informed me that she was in terrible pain, and she hoped that the intravenous Morphine would "kick in soon". I asked her if she was scared and she said that she was. Seriously?!
A little history...
My paternal grandparents are everything grandparents should be. Every Valentine's Day, St. Patrick's Day, Easter, Christmas, Birthday, etc. they sent cards, white chocolate suckers in the shape of hearts, four leaf clovers... Even with my children there were birthday cards, Christmas presents, and gifts just because. And, let's not forget the infamous Christmas package of cookies, candies and homemade Chex Mix. Growing up my brother, Gordon, would hide the Chex Mix; every year! Once my husband tasted Meme's Chex mix guess what he did with it? He hid it!! Her box of goodies had homemade chocolate chip cookies, chocolate covered cherries, chocolate covered peanuts, peppermint and spearmint barks, mini pecan pies, chocolate covered pretzels. I am sure there was more. My "Meme" even smelled like a grandmother; sweet and comforting. Everything about her is amazing, sweet and kind; even down to her handwriting. She has this amazingly perfectly readable cursive. That part of who I am was manifested by her unfaltering presence. No matter what happened with my nuclear family, she and my grandfather continued to be a strong presence in my life. She never faltered, never walked out, never chose something better. She and my grandfather are the connection I have to that part of my blood. When I learned she was sick, I scheduled a flight after I got the older boys taken care of, so I could be by her side. There is one airline that lands in Springfield, Mo from Nashville, TN-Delta. Taking my sweet Hamilton with me, we were ready to kick cancer's a**! Only it wasn't that easy. It was worse than I had originally thought. They could not determine the origin of the cancer, prolonging the treatment. I remember staring at the ceiling in one of her guest rooms, not being able to catch my breath. I had picked sleeping Hamilton out of his portable crib, hoping his warmth would help me realize that through struggles there is light. I thought that her home is not the same without her in it. I beat myself up for not making Thanksgiving the year before, because of new companies that needed attention, and careers that needed time. Man, I hated missing Thanksgiving. I hate that we put a new company that was taking shape and my career before family; lessons learned. I don't know what the future holds. I just know that we are tackling this cancer thing a day at a time. If it were only the cancer she was facing, we would be golden. Cancer sucks. Watching her struggle, fight and persevere to regress is the most helpless feeling in the world. God, please take away her pain, please hold her in your arms as she fights this evil mutation.
As we got back to Nashville my career skyrockets. I am so thankful that I am blessed to have the opportunities to advance as I have in my career and be able to be with my boys. They don't have to sacrifice, because Mommy is "making a difference".
I was getting my hair done last Saturday, when my feet were taken out from under me. Not really, they were actually reclined in a very comfy "hair-washing" chair. I know it is crazy!!! I know it is crazy!! But, I was getting my hair rinsed out, when this sweet little "Gabby" was planning on making Lasagna with her mom that night because her dad was out of town. I don't know why, but hearing her innocence and plans of making Lasagna with her mom brought tears to my eyes and made me fight so hard not to cry. Lasagna?! Seriously?! Why was it, that Lasagna made me think of my Adalynne Dior in heaven? Why was it that those plans ripped my heart out? If I say so myself, I am a very good cook; even, if Houston will not eat any of my concoctions. I make a mean lasagna, meatballs and red sauce, and stuffed shells. I know, southern belle and all!!! I know that those are memories I will never make with Adalynne. Plain and simple it made me sad, so very heart wrenchingly sad. I can spoil all of my little "nieces", but there will never be another Adalynne Dior.
The following day I took my three little boys to change out the flowers. It was the first time Hamilton had been to his big sister's grave as a walker. It was so heart warming to watch my three boys decorate their sister's marker. Once the big boys were loaded up in "Big Black" I lost it. Hamilton and I were taking Adalynne's sun-faded flowers to the garbage. I tried to get it all out in my two hundred yard journey. I tried to purge all of those feelings of loss, sorrow and longing. I am reminded in my moments of utter devastation that I am blessed. Hamilton, God love him, looked at me like I was crazy. I looked back at his inquisitive eyes and smiled. What else could I have done? That is when he put his head on my shoulder, as if to say "Mom, it will be okay. Adalynne sent me here to heal your broken heart." I pieced together my heart and we went to guitar lessons.
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