Not quite a week, but a long one (part 1)

It started with an element of confusion, with a text on Tuesday night that I wasn't expected to see until Wednesday morning. As a result, I thought that Jesse had collapsed on Monday night, and perhaps slightly underestimated how dire his situation was. After all, his grandpa would surely have communicated with us right away if it had been life-threatening. By Wednesday afternoon, I understood what had happened with the initial text, and we went to the hospital in the evening to see this young man who we still think of as the little boy who had spent so much time in our home.

If we hadn't understood already, we knew on seeing him that he was in the fight of his life, but were still hopeful that he might recover. His grandparents soon arrived back from out of town, and we stayed at the hospital several hours to be with them and with the rest of his family and their friends who were there.

On Thursday I didn't really interpret the family's reported signs of "improvement" in the same way that some of them did. I knew from experience that eye and body movement alone were not evidence that he was recovering. I agreed to stay with our grandchildren so that my wife could go visit the hospital again. She had been the one who'd spent so many hours providing child care for him and his sister when they were children; most of that time I was at work. Our youngest worked a double that day, so grandma had been watching kiddos all day. I figured it was best for me to give her a break, and the kids and I enjoyed some fun trampoline time together. I guess that might have been too soon after dinner, though, for our youngest grandson, who ended up being sick just before mom got there to pick them up after her shift. He was sick again during the night, but better the next day.

Friday was a scheduled off day for our youngest daughter, which ended up being a good thing when we got panicked phone calls from our oldest daughter in the afternoon indicating that her oldest son had been in a wreck. She sounded pretty hysterical, so I left work early to meet her at the hospital. All my friends already know the details, and I won't embarrass my grandson by sharing them here. But his injury was pretty serious, and his recovery will be a long road that will probably never return him to 100%, except by God's grace and healing power.

Friday night was also the beginning of the parish festival, and I had some Marriage Encounter brochures and schedules to drop off, so I left the hospital in time to make that happen. My bride had driven separately, so she hung out a while longer waiting for the results of the surgery. I don't remember the last time I wasn't able to attend Benediction at the start of festival, but I was able to drop off brochures in time and then, by the time Teri got there, had our registration forms for the next morning's 5k ready for our signatures. I then went home to let the dog relieve himself, and went back to the festival when Teri asked me to deliver a couple things she needed - decent shoes, socks, her arch support tape. It turned out that when I got there she decided she was ready to leave so we could visit with our grandson at the hospital, but at least I got to see the younger set of grandchildren there with their mom - her oldest of whom in particular was none too happy to have to listen to her instead of being able to run free.

We checked in with our oldest daughter on the way to the hospital; she was in the room when we parked, but left before we got upstairs. We didn't stay long, as it seemed as if our grandson was drifting off to sleep and we were pretty tired, too. We learned the next morning that, while his pain was being managed pretty well, he was still pretty much unable to sleep most of the night because of it.

Does being so guarded make me a bad husband?

Things that matter

It matters whether your kids get to school on time most of the time.
It matters whether they have food to eat.
It matters whether you lie about where you're going when we watch them.
It matters whether you're continually on your stupid phone when they're with you.
It matters whether they're embarrassed to have their friends come into their house.
It matters whether they think you're a monster.
It matters whether they want to go home.
It matters whether they think of it as home.

No, seriously

If you're just going to unilaterally decide that you have good enough reason to ignore the budget, then I'm going to stop doing it.

Two potential tragedies

I watch the young man struggling for life, tears seeping from his eyes, mouth being suctioned around the tubes entering his throat. I realize that I really don't know: is he struggling to live or struggling to die? Was the simple joy that I remember celebrating in him as a boy really just a harbinger of his addiction, by which he'd attempt in vain to cling to or recapture such fleeting moments rather than simply living his life?

This morning I drove past my parish, which is currently set up for our annual festival. The ride closest to the street is the kids' dragon-themed roller coaster. One year when he was really too big for it - and knew it - he and a friend forsook every other ride on the grounds for a couple hours to repeatedly ride in the last seat of this one, laughing hysterically on every circuit of the train around the tracks, rushing at the conclusion of each admission to get back into line and do it once more. They clearly knew it was silly for them to be having so much fun on a ride designed for smaller children, and clung determinedly to the simple joy that they were experiencing, somehow aware that such moments would soon be unrepeatable.

I'm not writing a eulogy. His story isn't over yet. He has two little girls who need a dad who can show them how to appreciate simple joy, and he needs to rediscover his capacity for it before he enters eternity.

But God knows what he and his loved ones need more than I do, and I trust Him to provide it for them according to his providential plan. His dad, who administered CPR to him when he collapsed Tuesday night (not Monday as I misunderstood based on the time stamp of his grandfather's text message) acknowledges even in the midst of this dark moment: in all things, give praise to God.

The other potential tragedy is my own grandson, who seems to be on the same path. I have no way of contacting him, but I long for him to see where his choices might lead him, that he might make different ones. Father, please lead him back to us, to You.

Prep for Sunday: First reading

And Moses took half of the blood and put it in basins, and half of the blood he threw against the altar. Then he took the book of the covenant, and read it in the hearing of the people; and they said, "All that the LORD has spoken we will do, and we will be obedient." And Moses took the blood and threw it upon the people, and said, "Behold the blood of the covenant which the LORD has made with you in accordance with all these words." - Ex 24:6-8

First impression: the NAB translation we'll hear on Sunday uses the verbs "splashed" (on the altar) and "sprinkled" (on the people) instead of the more general - and visceral - term "threw." This online interlinear translation uses "sprinkled" in both instances.

I've always related the blood of Jesus to that of the Passover lamb with which the Jewish people's doorways were marked in Egypt. This passage reminds us that there is so much more of the Hebrew salvation history that Jesus fulfills beyond just its best-known stories. It is not necessarily clear from the context that this reading is the first Day of Atonement, which the Jewish people still celebrate today as Yom Kippur. There is a great explanation in a Messianic context here. Jesus has fulfilled all need for sacrifice, and it is shortsighted to overlook this importance of his most precious Blood - even if blood sacrifice has always been a symbol intended for our benefit - on the feast of his Body and Blood.

(more later?)

Today's words

phreaker /FREE-ker/ - one who gains illegal access to the telephone system

I'm pretty sure I've seen this before, but couldn't associate the "ph" with the phone system when I tried to place it.

perseverate \per-SEV-uh-rayt\ - 1. to repeat or recur persistently  2. to go back over previously covered ground

I was pretty close on this recognizable word, but didn't quite have it accurately. I wouldn't have guessed that it was a back-formation from perseveration, though.

fictioneer \fik-shuh-NEER\ - someone who writes fiction especially in quantity and without high standards

This one was new, if obvious.

mingy \MIN-jy\ - 1. not liking to spend money  2. not large enough

Had no clue of this possible blend of mean and stingy.