I promised you a balloon story.

At the end of my last blog I actually promised you two balloon stories.  I’m afraid there is only one for now.

For my new readers – let me bring you up to date.  Balloons have been part of significant events in the life of our Amanda.  Again, for those who don’t know, Amanda passed away on October 12^th, 2014.  In the book, “Amanda, Perfectly Made” that I wrote about her life, there is a balloon floating away in the sky on the cover that relates to a touching situation that happened in her life.  (Read the book if you want to know – I’m not giving it away here!)  We also did a balloon ascension at Amanda’s memorial service where fifty balloons were released into the sky with notes attached for the lucky person who may catch one of the stray balloons.

This balloon story happened about two months after Amanda’s death.

Ted and I had planned a week-end getaway in Chicago way back in September for us and our daughters and their spouses.  It would include the two of us, Kristen & Ric, Jillian & Andy, and of course Amanda.  Now Amanda never liked change or being away from her home and routines – but we were going to make her go with us.  We were going to go out to eat at all kinds of great restaurants (she loved going out to eat) and we had plenty of indoor museum visits planned that she should enjoy.  We wanted this Chicago trip to be a fun family event.  Ted and I were determined to make it an enjoyable and memorable one.

Amanda passed away in October.

We decided to still take the December Chicago trip with the rest of the family.

We stayed in Chicago at one of the hotels that offer free breakfast.  Our first morning in Chicago, Ted and I were up at our usual early hour and ventured down to breakfast.  We were the only ones there besides the gal who was the breakfast hostess.  Sitting at the small square table in the early morning, sipping coffee, Ted and I were both a bit heavy hearted knowing that Amanda was supposed to be there with us.  We sat quietly while staring at our steaming coffee cups.  From the corner of my eye, I saw something.

I looked up … and for a moment was quite dumbfounded.

The breakfast nook we were sitting at doubled at nights as a bar.  We had a cozy dropped ceiling above us but the far end of the room opened up to a very high ceiling above the bar area.

Drifting down from the high dark corners of the far end of the room was …

A BALLOON!

Of all things!

I jumped up and ran to it, grabbing it by the ribbon that was attached.  I practically skipped back over to Ted and exclaimed, “Look!  Amanda IS HERE with us!”

(Insert here a picture of Ted sobbing.)

It was just so uncanny and unexpected … and yet so NOT random.

Why did that happen?  How did it happen?  What the … ?

I don’t know.

But I do know, in my heart, that Amanda was there with us and wanted us to know.  She picked a way to communicate that to us – a balloon.

You can believe it or not.

The puzzled breakfast hostess came over to us when she saw us both crying.  We told her our story.  She was so sweet.  She tied the balloon to the breakfast billboard sign and Amanda got to see all the people who came and went that day.  She would have loved that.

And that’s my balloon story.

Just Laurel

 

 

 

 

(Available at Amazon.com)

At the end of my last blog post I promised to write this time about ‘Amanda sightings’.

Whatever could that be?

First, let me get this part over with:  Ted and I are doing okay.  Really, we are.  But now these Amanda sightings caught us off our guard and were quite unexpected.   I feel they are worthy of sharing.

But now I have this feeling that I have to apologize for writing about Amanda again.  I’m thinking that you are thinking that I should get on with life and stop writing Amanda stories and get on to other stuff.  I am afraid the stories may never end.  After all, she was a part of our lives for over 31 years.  But after this and my next blog writing I hope to branch out to other topics.   Amanda will be a frequent visitor I’m sure.

So back to the unexpected.

If you are a reader of my blogs and have read my writings following Amanda’s passing, then you are aware of the significance of the bouquet I had for her at the memorial service.  Ted and I have two other daughters who both had beautiful weddings with guests and cake and a reception and flowers.  It never seemed to be a reality for Amanda to have a wedding and we felt sad that she never got that.  I felt like her memorial service was, in a way, like her special wedding service:  She filled the church with guests, a meal was served to the attendees, and I had a bouquet of white and purple flowers made for her – as pretty as a bridal bouquet with lots of ribbons and sparkles in it.

Now I had not revealed this ‘wedding’ idea to anyone but Ted and my daughters.  As we greeted and met with people before Amanda’s memorial service, one of her caregivers came up to me and was eager to share this story.  This caregiver had not worked a whole lot with Amanda, but she was a great and caring girl who found Amanda had wrapped herself around this caregiver’s finger!  She told me that the previous night she had had a dream.  In the dream, this caregiver and Amanda’s other main caregiver were both tending to Amanda.  They were dressed and ready to be bridesmaids for Amanda and Amanda was in a white dress  …   she was getting married.  Oh my.  The caregiver woke in tears and could not go back to sleep.

I did not expect to hear about a dream like that – Amanda as a bride.

Maybe Amanda knew my feelings.

I know she would have loved the bouquet.

And then …

Right after Thanksgiving I was with some church friends.  Now here, first, is some background info to help you understand the rest.  At church Ted is almost always in the balcony behind the sound board and I am usually up front singing.  Amanda would almost always sit on the inside aisle of the church in a particular row where some of her favorite people would sit.  This church friend was part of that family and usually sat on the outside far end of the aisle from Amanda.  During church service there is a time when a book is passed along each row where people write their names down – a sort of written attendance book for the church to keep track of members and visitors.  My church friend told me how, at the recent Thanksgiving service, she had just signed her name in the book and then, looking down the aisle, handed the book to be passed and signed.  She told me she honest-to-goodness saw Amanda sitting at the far end of the row like she always did.  It rattled her a second and she looked away and the looked back … and Amanda was gone.  “Amanda was at that Thanksgiving service” my church friend insisted.

And I believe her.  Amanda would have wanted to be.

I did not expect to hear that story either.

Expect the unexpected.  The first appearance of this quote is by Heraclitus (c.535 BC – 475 BC) where it reads:  “If you do not expect the unexpected you will not find it, for it is not to be reached by search or trail.”

I do not know what happens after death.  I don’t know how passed souls can send us signs.  Does God allow those in heaven to touch those left behind on earth?  Jesus once said:  Are not five sparrows sold for two pennies? Yet not one of them is forgotten by God.  Indeed, the very hairs of your head are all numbered. Don’t be afraid; you are worth more than many sparrows.  (Luke 12:6-7)  Many believe that the sighting of a red bird means a deceased loved one is visiting.  And if God can send a bird to bring a touch of hope to a hurting heart, I believe he allows us visits by dream and visions that are also a balm to our hurts.  I believe in miracles.  I believe God can move mountains.  I believe that our God is master and Lord over all – from breezes that bring wisps of memories and hope to dreams or happenings that have no earthly explanation.

And as far as one’s faith is related to all of this … We don’t need to know HOW He does things but to just trust and believe that He CAN do all things.  We must live expecting miracles.  People back in biblical times saw Jesus perform miracles:  the crippled healed, the blind given sight, and even water into wine.  God still has miracles to share with us today but I’m afraid most believers don’t look for them or expect them.

I’m just suggesting that, if you are a believer, why not try praying with expectation?  LOOK for Christ.  Seek Him.  Expect a miracle.  See Him all around you.  Get excited for the next thing.  Believe He loves you and will even send a red bird when you need a loving reminder.

And now …

 

I have 2 Amanda balloon stories for you.

 

That’ll be my next blog.

 

just Laurel

Everyone keeps asking us, “How are you doing?”

For anyone of you out there who has lost a loved one, you know that the REAL answer is not an easy one, nor a short one.  Some days we are good and some days we are not-so-good.  Sometimes memories make us laugh, and sometimes they make us cry.

But when people ask us, “How are you doing?” the easiest answer is:  “We’re doing okay.”  It’s sort of like the commonplace answer when asked, “How are you?”  With the answer being “Fine.”

“Okay.”

We are doing okay.

We both have jobs to go to and things at church … and we both do a swell job of keeping busy.  When you keep busy you don’t have time to think.  When we start thinking … thinking about her … it’s easier to realize that we miss her and the tears swell.  My worst time of day for thinking about her is early in the morning when I am driving to work.  I used to call her on my way to work because she was always awake early as well.  I have actually called her phone number a few times while driving to work just to hear her voice telling me to leave a message.  So I drive to work and think about her and talk out loud to her … and usually am wiping tears before walking into work.

I have been getting this weary body back to the gym and found a clever thing I can do.  After a good workout, I treat myself to some hot, sweaty, relaxing time in the sauna.  It feels so good to heat your body all up, open the pores, and sweat out all the yuck.  The sweat drips down my face and … no one notices the tears.

And how are we doing with Christmas and all?  Oh we put the tree up and some stuff around the house.  Ted didn’t feel at all like putting outside lights up.  So we didn’t.

I was okay with putting up the tree and even seeing some of Amanda’s ornaments.  But it kind of made me sad when I hung the 3 stockings I had … for the 3 daughters I have … or had.  Why not hang it?  Was I supposed to hide it away?  Nope.  But it worked out okay.  One of Amanda’s previous caregivers and I crossed paths back in November and she gave me this Christmas ornament.  So sweet.  I hung it with her stocking.  It made sense.  It was sort of like an “out to lunch” sign that let people know she wasn’t here.  No need to fill THIS stocking … she was at a better party.

 

But life goes on and Ted and I push forward.  No use staying ‘stuck’.  And how can we live life sad and miserable when we start counting the blessings?  Blessings that include such wonderful family and friends.   With two other daughters, two son-in-laws, and a grand baby on the way there are reasons to live, laugh, and enjoy life.  Although Amanda would have loved to have been “Aunt Amanda” I have to rest in the peace of knowing that she is in heaven now – at peace – and probably happier than we could even imagine.

 

It’s all just weird … the feelings … and the thoughts … and wondering how I am ‘supposed’ to feel.  I’ve never done this before … mourned a daughter.

But Ted and I?

We are okay.

🙂

Just Laurel

Next blog – “Amanda Sightings”

… of God’s gifts and perfect timing … part five

The five days between Amanda’s passing and her memorial service were … surreal … painful … sad …tiring … yet peaceful … sweet … and full of comfort.  So many people sent food and cards and offered such lovely sentiments that touched our hearts.

I found it particularly touching how Jillian’s classmates and teachers showed their support.  When you are in school so far away on an island like Jillian was, it is challenging to go away and miss school.  It is also a challenge to be so removed from family.  Classmates become ‘family’ and support each other during sickness, strife, and even the passing of a loved one.  While Jillian was up here in Michigan for Amanda’s memorial service, her island family showed their support by sending this picture with the caption:  “In memory of Jillian VanderYacht’s sister Amanda, Black semester friends and professors wore purple to show our support! October 15th is now purple day in honor of Amanda’s favorite color!  Miss you Jill!”  Oh my, what a gift.

We wanted Amanda’s memorial service to be on Saturday but the church was already booked for the entire day with their annual fall craft show.  We didn’t like Sunday for the event, so we went with Friday.  We knew people who worked might not be able to get off of work to attend, but we figured there were probably people who couldn’t make it Saturday either for other reasons.  So we went with Friday.

With having three daughters, Ted and I always dreamed and planned for three weddings.  We had two lovely weddings, one each for Kristen and Jillian (and gained two marvelous son-in-laws I may add) but always felt bad that there probably wouldn’t be a wedding for Amanda.  In a way, I felt like her memorial service was HER special day … not quite a wedding day … but similar.  We picked special music for her service.  There were programs.  I even had a bouquet for Amanda.  For the service we placed her wheelchair in the front of the church with her bouquet of white and purple flowers on it.  There were ribbons and sparkly things in the flowers, too; a perfect bridal bouquet for Amanda.  And Amanda filled the church – probably with more guests than either of her sisters had at their weddings!  Following the ceremony, there was a luncheon – her reception.

It was a party for YOU, Amanda.  YOUR special church service with flowers and food and a church filled with guests who all loved you.  I guess heaven called you home so Jesus could be your partner in your wedding dance.

We did a balloon ascension following Amanda’s memorial service.  It was significant as there was a great story involving Amanda and a previous balloon ascension.  (Why do you think there is a BALLOON on the cover of my book, Amanda, Perfectly Made??)  So we had to do one again for Amanda.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

There was so much love and support that week after Amanda died.  There were so many good stories from people who knew and loved her.

And the gifts and blessing from God continued.

Like …

Where did one of those balloons land?

And who else did we hear from with stories of Amanda?

 

… to be continued …

 

Just Laurel

http://www.amazon.com/Amanda-Perfectly-Made-Caregivers-Journey/dp/1475949219/ref=sr_1_sc_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1417017427&sr=8-1-spell&keywords=amanda+perfeclty+made

… of God’s gifts and perfect timing … part three

We brought Amanda home from the hospital on Wednesday, October 8^th.  Ted and I believe the hospital staff knew how sick she was but were afraid to say too much.  The pulmonary doctor avoided eye contact with me and seemed to be speaking cautiously although he did say that with the condition her lungs were in , he was sure she’d be back in the hospital with breathing issues again … and maybe again … until …. And he didn’t finish his sentence.  Ted recalls one nurse a bit teary eyed when we left.

At home, Amanda needed oxygen so we had to string oxygen tubing from the oxygen machine to her nose.  We were always moving tubing so she could wheel her chair around.  She wasn’t wheeling much though.  Sitting was uncomfortable in her chair because she had taken on so much body fluid from I.V.’s so she was pretty bloated.  She was also too tired and weak to wheel much anyway.  I would put a big blanket on the family room chair and sit her there, semi-reclined.  She slept most of the time or watched TV.  I could get her to eat when I offered it.  Mostly, she didn’t ask for much.  And she slept.  Or she would start trying to wheel off somewhere, and I would ask where she was going, and she’d get confused and stop.  By Friday, she wasn’t even asking to get in her wheelchair.

On Friday night, Ted’s dad stopped by.  Amanda was propped up in the family room chair.  It meant that Grandpa had to get on his knees to talk to Amanda.  She wanted a hug.  And he talked to her and hugged her.  He would stand up to leave, then get down on his knees to hug her again.  You can see from the photos how weak she was.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

But Amanda sure knew how to get her hugs.  🙂   I think grandpa got on his knees and hugged her four times

When Ted and I put Amanda to bed Friday night, she was so weak and confused and her color was bad – we both thought she wouldn’t make it through the night.  Thanks to a gift – we were all able to sleep.  My friend Clara loaned me a baby monitor she had used with her grandkids.  Because our bedrooms were so far apart, Ted and I could sleep in our bed while listening to Amanda in her bed on the opposite end of the house.

And then it was Saturday.

Saturday, Amanda spent the day propped up in the family room chair.  She slept.  She ate or drank when I offered it.  And she would open her eyes when Ted and I talked to her.

Now we don’t believe in ghosts, and we have no explanation for this.  But, Ted’s mom had passed away just five months ago.  Amanda and grandma were buddies.

We were sad of course to lose Ted’s mom to heaven’s glory but she had lived a long brave life.  Both of us had shared the same private thought – that if Amanda were to die, we were comforted that her Grandma would be there on the other side to take her hand and show her the way – without fear.

Ted had stopped to talk to Amanda in her chair, and upon rousing her from her sleep, Amanda looked around and blurted out, “Grandma, where am I?”

A gift.

Maybe grandma was already talking to Amanda.  We don’t know.  But it was comforting to imagine grandma helping.

Later in the afternoon, I knelt down to talk to Amanda and she whispered something to me.  “What?” I asked her.  “I’m done” she whispered.  “You’re done?” I repeated back to her.  “What are you done with?” I asked.  And she whispered back, “…with everything.”

We put Amanda to bed.

We went to bed.

All was quiet until I heard her via the baby moniter at 3a.m.  She was restless and talking.  I went in to her room and asked what she wanted.  “A drink” she replied.  “Do you want diet Coke?” I asked her.  It was her favorite.  I brought her a cup with a straw and had to hold her up so she could take a sip.  She took a second sip.  Then she started struggling and I asked if she wanted to get up.  “Yes,” she murmured and before I could pick her up to place her in her wheelchair, she collapsed on her pillow.

And she was gone.

She was done.  With everything.  She grabbed grandma’s hand and leaped into heaven.

If we hadn’t borrowed the baby monitor, we probably would have found her dead in her bed in the morning.  The monitor was a gift – and we were with her when she passed.

We were comforted by the mysterious assistance of Grandma.

We were comforted by Amanda’s admission that she ‘was done’.

We could have lost her when she first collapsed 2 weeks prior but had the chance to be with her nonstop ‘til the end.

She chose her own day.  The 8^th was Ted’s birthday; the 10^th was sister Jill’s birthday.  Amanda went home to heaven on the 12^th.  Nice of her not to shadow the birthdays of her dad and sister – and to even keep the day in logical succession:  8, 10, 12.

God’s perfect timing.

And so many gifts continued to follow …

… to be continued …

 

Just Laurel

… of God’s gifts and perfect timing … part two

There we were at the hospital emergency room.  Amanda had come around and was responding to people talking to her.  Everyone was playing pin cushion as they tried to start an I.V. on her.  Amanda does not have good veins for I.V.’s.  They finally got an I.V. started in her neck.

Now to the task of investigating ‘what happened’?  The most obvious answer was probably a bout of pneumonia.  Amanda had pneumonia twice before.  Both times it was pretty ugly.  Both times she ended up being intubated and in the hospital for a long time.  And from what I understand, pneumonia can scar and weaken the lungs.  You don’t want to have repeat occurrences of pneumonia.

A chest xray was ordered to check her lungs out and blood work was done to see what it may show.  They also did a blood test called a “blood gas” which draws blood from an artery and not a vein.  The difference?  When blood is pumped OUT of the heart, it travels through arteries to feed oxygen to the rest of the body.  After arterial blood makes its way to the tiny ends of its path at the capillary level, it turns around and makes its journey back through veins to the lungs to get refueled with fresh oxygen to then go to the heart to get pumped back out again.  A blood gas blood test that takes blood from an artery will help to measure the efficiency of the lungs … this blood should be full of oxygen with a low level of carbon dioxide – that’s the gas you breathe OUT while oxygen comes in to fuel the body.  A ‘normal’ level of carbon dioxide in arterial blood should be 25 to 30.  Amanda’s carbon dioxide level in the emergency room was 100.  One hundred!

Remember from my last post about how I told you that CO2 is poison to the body?  How Amanda needs to wear her mask (especially all night) to help her tiny lungs blow off that poisonous CO2?

All those months of struggling to get her to keep that mask on at night … it all caught up to her.

And then to make matters worse…

Amanda’s blood work showed the presence of infection in her body, x-rays showed fluid (pneumonia) in her lungs, and blood cultures showed a systemic staph infection.  Staph infections are not good.  This staph infection parked in her lungs and fried them, causing infection and pneumonia.

For the first half of Amanda’s hospital stay, she was getting strong antibiotics to take care of the infection, and breathing treatments to help with her breathing.  This time, they did not intubate her (put her on a breathing machine with a tube down her throat).  They almost did.  They were close to wanting to.  But, they kept a mask on Amanda’s face to help blow breaths, almost like being intubated, but much gentler and it enabled her to take sips of water from time to time.  Mostly, Amanda slept those first days.  She was so sick from infection.  She was also recovering from almost dying on that Saturday.

As we got to the end of that first week in the hospital, Amanda was improving.  She was awake more often, eating pudding or ice cream, and talking a little bit.  But she was weak and very confused.  Many times she talked about seeing her sisters or wanting to go see the cat in the hall.  At times she thought she was at her apartment or at our house.  It pained us to see her so confused and weak.

As we got in to the second week of hospitalization, Amanda had gotten strong enough for us to get her up in her wheelchair for short periods of time.  She was still confused and weak, but we hoped for things to get better.  The antibiotics had conquered the infection and her white count was back to normal.  He breathing was improved, although she spent many hours with her mask on and the machine breathing for her.  They really weren’t doing anything more for her, and so we looked to going home.

Amanda spent eleven days in the hospital.

Those days were a gift that continued with four more days at home.  So many factors made it so that Amanda survived her ‘crash’ on that Saturday.  She could have passed away in her sleep, she could have slipped away while I was at my bible study, or she may not have been at our house with my CPR knowledge and quick EMS response.

God knew we needed time.

We always had a hidden thought that Amanda may succumb to some illness and not outlive us.  That thought had sometimes surfaced over the past thirty-one years of Amanda’s life.  But we would squelch it and bury it again.  You are never prepared for when it really happens.  And we just had a feeling that things were not so good this time.

God gave us those precious days so we could take care of Amanda 24/7.  Either Ted or I stayed with her round the clock at the hospital.  Remember in part one of this saga how I mentioned that Ted had thought we should spend more time with Amanda.  We got that gift.  Almost 2 precious weeks.

We talked to Amanda.  Took care of Amanda.  Took care of her thirst.  Comforted her when she got confused.  Helped her brush her teeth and tell her that we love her.  I don’t think she was ever scared or lonely.  We were there.  Thank you God, we were there.

A gift.

So we got her to the best of health that we could and brought her home on a Wednesday.  In all of the past hospitalizations, Amanda always bounced back.  She wasn’t ‘bouncing’ this time, but we also knew that “home” would be the best and only medicine now that might work.  Home is where she could get the rest she needed and the food she preferred.

Home felt good after eleven days in the hospital.

Being home was a gift.

Amanda got to be home at our house for four days.

 

… to be continued …

 

Just Laurel

Well ‘justlaurel’ cannot stay silent forever. I know that many of you are mourning the loss of our Amanda as well.  I also figure that so many of you are also asking and wondering, “What happened?”  Although my days are still quite foggy with the inability to sometimes believe that she really is gone, Ted and I keep placing one foot in front of the other because life goes on.  We are still acclimating, or trying to acclimate, to life without Amanda.  We are doing okay.  It is still a nauseating swing of emotions from sorrow to happiness but we have each other to hold onto.  We are moving forward.

So …

What happened?

If you’ve been a reader of my blog or are a close friend or family then you are more than aware of the breathing issues Amanda had. At thirty-one years of age, Amanda weighed only 55 pounds and was stuck in a very small squat body.  Her little torso housed her liver, stomach, intestines, heart, and all the normal parts including a set of lungs.  For most of her life they served her well.  But things got crowded in there and they were tiny squished little lungs that did not inflate very well.  Amanda also had sleep apnea – that means she would forget to breathe when she was asleep.  At night, Amanda slept with a mask on her face while a machine blew air in and out to keep her breathing in her sleep.  For a whole year after moving into her apartment, Amanda kept that mask on all night.  And then about six months ago …

… that’s when things all changed. Again, if you were a reader of mine, then you will know of how we were struggling to perhaps move Amanda to a group home, or get her a roommate, or to make some kind of change.  Amanda was taking her mask off at night and it was affecting her health.  When you inhale oxygen, you blow off carbon dioxide.  Amanda was not blowing off enough CO2 – and CO2 is like poison to your body when it builds up.  Hence, our frustration and anxiousness at making a change for her where we could have more help with staff at night to be watchdogs to keep her mask on.

I saw it coming. For the past months, I saw Amanda spiraling downward.  I tried reasoning with her, bribing her, and then pleading with her to keep her mask on.  She never could explain why she took it off.  We can’t tell you if it was a conscious thing or something she was doing in her sleep.  But she was tired a lot, confused on some days, and just not her usual sparkling self.  I worried each night when she went to bed, prayed she’d make it okay though the night, and waited anxiously each morning to hear from her.

On Saturday, September 27, I had an eight a.m. bible study to go to. I had already heard from a text from Amanda that she was awake.  Her staff was not scheduled to arrive until 8a.m.  On my way to my bible study, I decided to stop by her apartment and check on her.  It was 7:40a.m.  Amanda was up and watching TV but seemed quite weak and her color was not so good.  I set out some breakfast, had her take a drink of juice, and with a heavy sense of worry, I left for my bible study.  After the bible study, worry had gnawed a hole in me and I felt I had to check on her again with my mind already pretty much made up that I was going to bring her to the house with me for the day.  When I returned to her apartment, she looked even worse.  I phoned Ted and told him I was coming home with Amanda and bringing her oxygen machine as well.  I just had a feeling that she might be needing it.  I hurriedly packed Amanda, her wheelchair, and the oxygen machine in the van.  When I pulled into the garage, Ted unloaded the oxygen machine for me and I told him to plug it in right away in the kitchen where Amanda was going to be.  I followed him with Amanda in her wheelchair.  As we stood in the kitchen we watched Amanda go from purple lips to a blue face.  Her head dropped back and her arms went limp.  Every part of her went blue or gray.  I yelled at Ted to call “911” and grabbed Amanda out of her wheelchair and placed her on the carpeted family room floor.  Can you believe it?  I had just taken my annual CPR refresher class.  I felt for a pulse.  It was there … but slow and irregular.  She was not breathing.  She was not moving.  She was very blue and her fingertips were purple.  I’ll never forget it.  I did some chest compressions and gave her some breaths.  And then EMS showed up.

This writing is titled “…of God’s gifts and perfect timing…”.

Well…

What if I had not checked on Amanda Saturday morning? What if she had lost consciousness at her apartment?  What if I had not gone back after bible study to check on her again?  Would we have found her dead in her chair by herself at the apartment?  Her apartment is in Woodhaven and not near at all to the fire station.  At our house in Trenton, the fire station is quite close.  What if I had not just the previous week taken my CPR refresher course?  It also helps when your neighbor is a Trenton cop and hears the 911 call and knows exactly who it is for and is there in seconds – showing the way for the rest of the EMS people.  What a gift.  What timing.

And then …

As I rode in the ambulance on the way to the hospital, our police officer/neighbor had patrol cars stop traffic at two major intersections to clear the way for us to get to the hospital. Amanda! … they stopped traffic for you!

Just a week or two before this day, Ted had commented that we should perhaps spend more time with Amanda. We saw her frequently and took her Sundays to church and to spend the day with us.  But we were thinking we should do more.

We almost lost Amanda that Saturday morning. But with God’s perfect timing, Amanda ‘came to’ at the hospital.  Her time was not up yet.  This was the start of a gift – two more weeks with Amanda.

 

… to be continued …

 

just Laurel

 

Here’s the long video – more a documentary of Amanda’s life.

(copy and paste to view)

 

I am tired. I am numb.  Today was a long day – full of so many wonderful friends and family who came to remember Amanda.  Thank you.  Right now I am feeling like I failed her.  And it hurts.  And I cry and tell her, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”

Gonna take time.

just Laurel