I’ve had a long-standing case of writers block for quite a while now. Every time I sit down with the intent to put my feelings into words, I find myself sitting with my hands hovering over the keyboard. I write a few words and then I erase them all, over and over again. I imagine that I look a bit like Tom Hanks in You’ve Got Mail, although it always bothered me that he didn’t simply hold down the backspace key rather than clicking it a hundred times. I’m sure it’s cinematic license, but it always drives me crazy.
I’ve been meaning to get back into this, but it’s hard. I find I appreciate keeping my thoughts to myself more with every pressing day. However, I can’t get my family off of my mind so here I am, theoretically putting my pen to paper, in order to sort out my thoughts.
On March 14, 1958, my grandparents were married. They were just shy of their 18th and 19th birthdays. They went to a justice of the peace in a town that didn’t require a blood test so they could marry quickly and she could go with him to a job the next day. I can’t put into words what these two people mean to me. Individually, they are both the type of people a person just wishes they could be. You’ve got a world traveller, someone strong and steady with a twinkle in his eye and a joke at the ready, and then you have a fireball, who approaches life with a uncontainable zeal no matter whether it is work or play. Both are the hardest working people I know, and both will give anyone the shirt off their back.
This past weekend, we celebrated their 60th wedding anniversary. It really brought me joy to be able to give them a celebration for their marriage, to create a bit of a wedding reception that they’ve never had before. I loved looking through photos of their life and it made me wish that I could have been there every step of the way. If I had every day with them, it would never be enough. They’ve been my teachers, my champions, my friends.
This weekend made me reflect a lot on how important they’ve been in my life, and now that I’m facing the idea that we are in the twilight years, I’ve had a hard time reconciling to the fact that they will not, indeed, live forever. They’ve been my earthly rock. In the midst of all the decorating and prepping, grandpa wasn’t feeling well. We tried to get him to go to the emergency room both Friday and Saturday, but he didn’t want to interfere with our plans. He refused to sully a moment that we were creating, even though our priority is always him and grandma.
Lo and behold, when he went to the doctor this morning, he was immediately admitted to the hospital. I’m glad he’s in good care, and I know that there’s nothing we can do but wait so we can get testing done to determine exactly what’s happening, but it’s killing me to be so far away and to not be able to be sitting there.
I don’t want to give a bunch of details, but if you are the praying type, say a prayer for him. Pray that the doctors can pinpoint what’s wrong and that he will get full healing. I’m not sure writing this post did anything to release my emotions and fears, but perhaps it’s a start. I hope it is.