Isn't it interesting how certain things can trigger our memories? As Thanksgiving approaches, I am finding myself remembering last year... the worst Thanksgiving ever.
My little family attended a concert on Temple Square on the Saturday evening before Thanksgiving, we were enjoying the music, the spirit of the holidays, and being together as a family (well, Caitlin was kind of being a stinker, but what else is new?). As the concert progressed, Clint started receiving calls from my dad, which went directly to voice mail. Finally, he became concerned and listened to the messages. I will never, ever forget him leaning over to me and saying- You're dad called, it's Brian. He's in the hospital and not expected to make it.
My hands started to shake, my body turned cold and tingly, I was too shocked and scared to cry.
I was able to talk to my dad as we drove home. I found out Brian had pneumonia and being diabetic, he was having all kinds of complications. The doctors had worked on him all day and had finally decided to airlift him to another hospital. Before doing so, they told my dad to gather the family together to say goodbye because there was a very good chance he would not survive the flight. I was too far away and was told to stay home until they had more news. I have never felt so far away from my family.
That was one of the longest nights of my life. I remember laying on my bed, not being able to relax, and wondering if my spirit would know if my brother passed away. Would I feel differently? Would I somehow know before being told? I hurt for my parents, for my siblings, for Brian. And I prayed, and prayed, and prayed.
The next day, I learned Brian had survived the night and was on life support. I packed, not sure if I should bring clothes for a funeral, and I left my little family to fend for themselves.
My experiences with Caitlin's cancer left me somewhat knowledgeable concerning my parents state of mind and needs during this time. But still, I felt so inadequate. There are experiences in life that just can't be fixed with a warm meal, sleep, or the comfort of family and friends. No words can heal your heart and bring peace to your soul. You just hurt and want nothing more than to have your life back as it was before tragedy hit you like a brick.
My sister, Toni and I insisted on my parents leaving the hospital each night and we took on the responsibility of sleeping in the ICU waiting room. She took the couch, I took the recliner. We slept in the half light and I never did get used to codes being called- Code Blue, Code Red, I still don't know what Code Green is? That room became the home of the homeless and I have to admit, I became a little possessive of it- not liking one bit when others thought they could visit and watch TV when it was my bedtime.
The days passed, each becoming more grim as Brian made no progress. The biggest concern was brain damage, we learned that on the flight to the hospital, Brian had lost his breathing tube and had not been given an adequate amount of oxygen, made worse by the pneumonia. We had discussions with the doctor about quality of life, due to the area of expected brain damage being memory, reasoning, thought process. I could stand to visit him when he was totally sedated, but when they would bring him out of the induced coma to see if he would start breathing on his own, I couldn't stand to watch him struggle. My mom took my lack of visiting as rejection, but for me, it was just self preservation. I had made my peace with what I felt was coming- I had told the Lord I would accept His will, I had said goodbye to my brother, communicating with him that I would understand if he chose to leave us. I promised him I would love his son and make every effort to make him a part of our family. I told him I loved him more than he would ever know, that I was proud to be his sister.
Clint and the kids came- Thanksgiving was here. It was a sad day. We were all tired, worn out, getting a little
snarky. We went to the cafeteria to eat lunch- we were too late, lunch was over. We went back to ICU, ate junk food, the kids were bored, adults were out of patience. We went back to the cafeteria for dinner, ate pressed turkey, tried to make the best of it, kept telling each other it would be better next year, silently wondering if Brian would be with us then.
The day came to a close. My dad and Clint decided to give Brian another blessing before leaving for the night. I chose to stay with the kids in the waiting room while everyone else went in to participate in the blessing and say goodnight. I had my own prayer with my kids. Toni and I made our beds and another large, loud family came in, so sleep was out of the question. We talked and gossiped about the other family there, we weren't very nice. Late into the night, a nurse came out and walked straight towards us, she told us Brian was making *meaningful* gestures and trying to communicate- he was awake. I decided to call my parents and this is another conversation I will never forget- it took several rings for my dad to pick up, and what felt like several more minutes for him to answer, I imagine he was prepping himself for the worst news. The relief and joy in his voice comforted me to no end. I had finally been able to deliver an answer, an ounce of hope to my parents on behalf of my brother. The Lord had answered our prayers, He gave Brian another chance at life, He blessed us all that Thanksgiving Day.
I love my family so much. Each member holds a special place in my heart that only they can fill. I appreciate their strengths, talents, individuality. I am thankful this season for each one of them and for the blessings extended to us by a loving Heavenly Father. It is through His plan that we are divided into family units, to love, care for, and support one another, and to be together for eternity.
Now... bring on a real turkey, we deserve it after last year!
