vintage spring first birthday party

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

sunday

It's crazy the things that go through your head when you hear bad news.  The first being, maybe this news isn't so bad?  Maybe this is a blessing.  Maybe this is something to thank God for.  Maybe this is actually good news.  Tame (ie normal and understandable) in comparison to 'why couldn't I get my shit together enough to send him that picture of E with hair?'

Uncle Dave passed away this morning.  My phone rang at 530 and when I saw my sister's name on the caller ID I knew what she was going to say.  I've known this moment was coming for a long time now.  But despite all the heartbreaking - and oftentimes numbing - experience I have with death, I just can't predict when someone's last moments will be.  I wish I could.  Patients and their families ask me all the time.  And I so badly wish I could have better answers for them.  Something more helpful that 'I don't know.'  Give them the time they are asking me for - time to prepare.  But the truth is, I just don't know.  No one does.  And the even bigger truth?  You can't prepare.  You can't.

But even as I write this post I realize that part of me did know.  Part of me knew when I spoke to him 2 days ago.  We talked about nothing.  We talked about everything.  He expressed concern that E wasn't walking yet and I assured him that at 11 months old she still had time yet.  Our conversation left me with a smile on my face and so much love in my heart.  And part of me knew.

I wish so many things.  I wish I'd had more patience.  That I had made it home more often to see him.  That I could have helped shoulder the work load that my family has taken on these past 2 years of illness.  But more than anything I wish I could have made him better.  My body aches with how much I wish I could have saved him.

David Lee.  I am so happy that you are no longer in pain.  So happy that this life is done and you've moved on to the next.  Moved on to a place where you can walk.  Run.  Maybe even ski downhill with a ridiculous top hat on.  I've heard all the stories;)  But I will miss your potato salad and your deviled eggs.  I'll miss your under the radar thoughtfulness that would pop up at the most random times.  I'll even miss the prying - sometimes usually frustrating - questions that I had to remind myself came from a place of pride and affection.  I will miss you, Uncle.  So much.

All my love.  Amy Michelle.

2014

2013 ended on - frankly - a shitty note.  It was a stellar year overall - my little e.r is the absolute best thing that has ever happened to me.  But towards the end of the year life just got, I don't know, funky?  And not in a good way?  I don't even know exactly how to describe it.  Definitely there are specific events and experiences I could recount.  But they wouldn't really capture the basic feeling of yuckiness.  Was hoping that with the start of 2014 everything would feel somehow fresher, cleaner.  Which is kind of stupid.  Counting on the turn of the calendar to make me feel good about where I am is way past lazy and naive.  Right?  So here I am 4 short days into the new year and I am deep into one serious funk.  This morning I sat at my kitchen table because the kitchen is my happy place (side note: less happy since I saw a scary sized gray mouse dart across the floor during dinner a few days back).  I sat and I thought.  Trying to figure it - everything - out.  And in walked my Clayton.  Quite a bit of my current funk I laid on his shoulders.  Some appropriately.  Some unfairly.  But I put it out there.  And you wanna know what he did?  He took it.  He just took it.  And now I can see how maybe this year might be the best one yet.  Because he's here with me.  Always.