When I was a little girl, if I wanted to talk to my dad alone.. I knew I could usually find him in his garage. His garage was well used, so it was a little dirty .. and a little oily… and usually had someone’s car parked in it.
I can still smell it. Like old motor oil combined with the damp… and the smell of the trees blowing in from the open door.
I would walk right in… and sit on the floor of my Dad’s garage.
And I was never more content.
Why was I on the floor?
Because my dad was usually under the car… fixing it… and it was easier to talk to him from down there on the floor.
And talk I did .. from what I remember. But I also remember sitting in silence while he worked.
While I sat there, my dad occasionally asked me to hand him a tool. Sometimes I guessed the tool correctly.. but occasionally he would hold the tool I handed him for a moment… and then ask me for the tool he needed again. That time he would describe it to me.
So patient.
And I’d try again.
Sometimes more than once.
For me.. that memory is what my prayer space feels like.
A garage? …you ask…
Why not the image of a church.. or a sunny meadow…? Or a flower garden?
For me?
While sitting on my dad’s floor… I felt loved, and safe… and heard.
The same way I feel when I pray.
This last year has been a difficult one for me.
So much anger in this world… so much injustice… so much sadness…
… and some of my favorite people getting sick…
I have always told people that I won’t sit and wait for a storm to pass… I’ll find a way to dance in the rain…
… but this last year…?
This year I have found myself sitting on the floor of my Father’s garage..
…talking to God while He works on the world.
I’ve found myself bringing my prayers to Him.. like a child. Bringing my disappointments and sadness …
… sometimes I just sit in silence… letting His love seep into me…
.. and occasionally God asks me to help Him..
.. sometimes I do a good job of guessing what is needed.. but sometimes I need to listen a second .. or even third time before I am success at using my gifts for what He intended.
Especially this year… it feels like it is so hard to use the gifts I have been given.
.. writing..
.. encouraging..
.. all of gifts… left in that tool box ..
But as I sit in the quiet.. on the floor with my Father?
My dad used to tell me, “What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger.. but you’ll be surprised what you can live through.”
I held onto that thought when I was lying in a hospital .. 5 weeks ago… concentrating on each controlled deep breath…
Controlled… because the instinct to panic and gasp for more air was strong.. but wouldn’t help …
Deep breaths … because keeping my lungs as open as possible would be the difference between a ventilator.. or keep the oxygen “nose leash”…
I will remember that moment for a long time…
… that moment …
… not scared… but respecting the gravity of the illness that I had…
… not panicking… but focusing on each breath in its entirety… like there was nothing else in the world…
… not wanting to leave my kids without a mom yet… but knowing that it was a possibility…
… and trusting… knowing that God had my situation in His hands… in His plans …
… so I thought about that saying my dad would say … I’d be surprised what I could live through… as I felt the ability to breath on my own get smaller and smaller…
And smiled…
That moment was my covid moment.. filled with that Covid feeling … Being so weak in body.. and fading.. but so filled with faith in God’s plan.. and filled with love from my Earthly family… that I took one more deep breath … and then another…
…. and I was able to keep breathing with JUST the help of that oxygen “nose leash”….
Now.. I know you all see me joke about the oxygen “nose leash” as my son affectionately named it.. that’s because laughter is the best medicine…
oxygen “nose leash” mess…
… I won’t lie.. sometimes that “nose leash” is the source of so much frustration.. The puppies get tangled up in it… it gets caught under something … and it pulls my face back.. or at the very least makes me stop in my tracks and fix the “trap”…
… not to mention that I’m limited to 50 feet from my machine… unless I hook up a tank that I have to pull or carry…
… but I’m still so thankful for the “nose leash” .. because the alternative? A ventilator… in the hospital wasn’t as appealing…
… or worse yet .. now that I’m home… if I didn’t have the oxygen.. I wouldn’t be able to walk to the kitchen to get my own coffee … or do any simple activity without getting short of breath.
This Covid thing isn’t limited to breathing though…
It was obvious things.. like coughing up red “junk”… the swollen neck… abdominal swelling .. leg swelling… the horrible headaches… the heart pounding… the massive bloody noses.. the face swelling….
… but I learned later.. there are the “not so obvious” Covid things too… the short term memory issues… the loss of being able to sign my name… learning to walk without a walker again… keeping my blood sugar above 70 … learning how to be less active … how to ask others to do things for me…
… you’d be surprised what you can live through…
Slowly, my family is losing that Covid feeling…
… the worry that mom will go back to the hospital… my son worried to let me out of his sight… my daughter exhausted from being “the mom” to us all… everyone too exhausted to do much beyond eating and surviving…
But I never want to lose all of the Covid feeling… I hope I keep the joy in the little things…
… the love I feel when I remember the things my parents taught me…
… baby steps
… the happiness I get from little notes tucked into much needed food delivered to the hospital…
… the way my cup overflows with the generosity of friends and their front porch drop offs…
… the joy of being able to go home… even with “oxygen nose leashes”…
… being content surrounded by my little family…
… the feel of grass beneath my feet
… the accomplishment of walking to the chicken coop with a portable oxygen leash
… wearing jeans for the first time in a month…
Being able to see the baby steps of healing as blessings during the storm… means the storm didn’t win…
… so for me?
I don’t want to lose all of that Covid feeling…
.. and I will no longer be surprised what I can live through.
If I had to pick a house to be in this week.. it would NOT be the Covid floor of this hospital..
It IS a pleasant enough place.. but the pneumonia.. and the coughing.. and the struggling to breathe.. being so sick I can’t be home…
.. not to mention new iv’s at 1 am when the old one fails..
But the people here are amazing and patient… and brave. Suiting up everytime I need a toothbrush or a potty break.. or a water…
From Elise and Brooke and Melanie… to Chris, Matt, Erin, Erica, Tessa, Gabby, Crimison.. and so many names I didn’t catch… just the care they showed.
And everyone who walks into my room to poke and prod and encourage me to get better…? Looks out my window, “They gave you the best view in the house.”
And it’s true… as I lay here doing controlled breathing to expand my lungs.. I get to look at this idealic picture to calm my breathing…
And I got to thinking about all the blessings around me..
Covid is nothing I would wish on anyone. It’s horrible… but we knew what to expect from our doctors because they helped us to know what to do. What vitamins to take.. what precautions to take.
I got some great covid treatments .. that were NOT available a year ago. So for me? The year of quarantine life added a WHOLE year of research that made a difference in my life.
One of the nurses here said most everyone is fully vaccinated… that makes me feel calmer about accidentally infecting anyone. Something I never want to do.
So much love from family and friends .. and prayers from everywhere..
The packages of love delivered to my sick kids at home… from color books to gluten free Oreos … and fruit baskets … mean so much to a mama far from her kids…
So even if I’m eating the same 2 things off the menu… because they can’t cater to my crazy allergy diet… ?
The view from my window is still the best in the house…
I’ve had 3 episodes of 105 temperature… where the shivering is so violent that I thought my bones would break. I cough up so much solid red junk from my lungs that I can’t move afterwards.
On day 3, I went to the ER for X-rays and CT scans… where I was diagnosed with Covid pneumonia.. I was scheduled immediately for antibody infusions….
…and on day 4… when I couldn’t keep my oxygen above 88… my husband took me to the ER again and dropped me off at the door.
After countless labs and scans… The ER had to call 5 hospitals before they found a hospital an hour away that had ROOM to admit me…
I usually walk 2-4 miles a day in my life…
Today?
Today… I still can’t walk to the bathroom to pee withOUT shaking violently and having to have extra oxygen for the movement. I almost hyperventilate when I change positions of any type. And then it takes me 20-30 mins to recover.
They found blood clotting factors in my blood work so I’m on blood thinners… and my glucose numbers are abnormally high. I don’t have problems with diabetes…
The headaches and fevers have subsided with the addition treatments… finally
…but my lungs will have a long road to recovery… and that depends on how tomorrow goes.. they say day 6 is pivotal for if you get better .. or worse.
But for me… I think about my kids at home… going through the same illness… doing breathing treatments and monitoring oxygen levels and heart rates… knowing that God has us all in His hands… in His plans…
I’m trusting in Him as I have always done.
But I am so glad that I spent the last year of my life protecting them and the people around me.. from this COVID… This “definitely NOT a cold” virus…
Sometimes, heroes can be someone who doesn’t rush forward into the public’s notice… someone who’s actions aren’t “big” enough to gain applause… or gratitude from others.
Sometimes… a hero’s only photo might not be front page of the newspaper..
…but rather…
… in the background of someone’s selfie…
Anyone who knows me… knows that my life’s work is helping kids. Encouraging them to be their best selves…. helping them to enjoy life… volunteering any way that I can…
Anyone who knows me… also knows that I haven’t been able to work consistently. With my son’s mood disorders, I have always needed to be available to be his support.. and his chauffeur.
Being available? It doesn’t exactly line up with being employable..
(Some of you just argued that I’m an author.. And I agree that it’s a noble and rewarding career. But there is a reason it’s called “starving artist”.. lol)
But the last few months I have had to slow down. Slowed down volunteering. Slowed down all activities…
In these slow times… I am noticing a different kind of hero.
Heroes that hang around in the background.
Heroes that don’t bring attention to themselves… that don’t post what they are doing on social media (shocking I know)…
… heroes that no one even realizes are there.
Lately, I have been seeing these heroes in the most unlikely of places.
But my favorite?
My favorite unnoticed hero is often found in the background of our family selfies. (Often with a reluctant smile on his face..)
This man has supported every club that I have started…
.. he has agreed to every scheme I come up with…
… he welcomed every extra blessing that I have brought home to live with us…
… always adjusting the budget to fit whatever way I feel our family needs …
Supporting my week long “editing marathons”…
..not grumbling (too much) when the kids’ Netflix marathon days affect his ability to work..
… dealing with our artistic “messes” …
… our cooking experiences .. (and disasters)…
… adapting to our gluten free.. dairy free.. yeast free… egg free… food restrictions… and ALL the added expense that comes with it… without batting an eye…
As a mom… I get told that I’m doing a good job all the time. As a volunteer… I get told “thanks”.
But my husband… he stands behind me .. handing me the tools I need… mentally and financially… but he doesn’t always get noticed back there…
He may not get noticed by others… but I see him.
.. and I know that I wouldn’t be able to “be Julie” without his unnoticed support behind me…
… and I don’t celebrate him enough…
So this year… while we are slowed down for a novel virus?
In my husband’s family.. that person was Grandpa Bennett.
Stories being told of Uncle Loren and Uncle Erwin… two souls that I never met… But the memories would bring out a fond chuckle from Grandpa..
… and a smile from my husband.
Some of my favorite stories were ones he told of my sweet mother-in-law.
How .. as a child… she had prayed for each chicken before he “harvested” them. He would shake his head at the memory.. and joke that they never raised chickens after that.
But more than the stories he told … I loved to see the happiness in his expression.
The joy that shone from his face…
… it took your breath away.
Grandpa
Grandpa Bennett turned 98 this last March.
98 years on this earth.
Can you imagine the changes he witnessed in this world from 1922 .. until 2020? It is no wonder he had so many stories to tell.
World Wars…
Great Depressions…
Computers..
Not all of it was good… it couldn’t have been..
… yet every story I remember him telling? He would tell with a happy chuckle.
…and every person he talked to? He greeted with a smile.
This week, Grandpa Bennett lost the fight with his weak heart… and he went to be with His Lord.
He will be missed by so many.
…by so many…
The next time our family can gather..?
He won’t be sitting at the kitchen table.. He won’t greet everyone by name as we arrive..
… but he will be there.
He will be there in our hearts. Alive in the stories he told us of his childhood… and beyond…
And he will be there alive in his children and all of his grandchildren.
Because the love that Grandpa gave freely grows in his loved ones still.
And when we listen carefully?
We can still hear that joyful laugh!
Thank you Grandpa Bennett for sharing your stories with us…
… and your joy ….
.. and thank you for raising such an amazing daughter.. so that I could have an amazing second mom.
May we all follow in your footsteps…
Everything sounds better with the echo of a still small voice.
Jules Nelson 