Just When I Thought I Couldn't Cry Anymore...

     So I came home for a couple of days...And oddly enough, I've been in bed most of it...Makes me wonder if it might not be best just staying where you are...Not stepping out of it, but marching on... Something about coming home...out of the gestalt of what you were just getting used to ....
     Much as I love this farm and my babies...much as I  longed to dust and wash and iron (for my therapy more than cleaning anything...after all, no one where I am cares about ironed clothes, least of all me...)
     But in looking for something to iron by (which is my favorite kinda therapy) I flip to the guide to see what might be iron-worthy, if not what I might've recorded while away for days such as these when all I need is to watch something while doing something mindless...

     Oh look... Gaithers are on...(may be Trinity Network; may be an infomercial...If it says Gaithers, I am prone to check it out either way as I'm seldom disappointed)

     Tonight it was Joey and Rory...

     God love this couple...

     Love the Gaither's music...Love these folks' music...

     But so caught up in our own story, I wasn't fully up to speed on theirs behind the scenes...While I keep up with their blog...and knew Rory had taken on her angel wings, but clearly this production was done a year or so ago...Funny how you feel some folks are family...I was curious to know the story leading them through their journey....

     I watched and I cried...

     I cried as I watched...

     My God...what an angel voice...

   
     Something about that sweet couple facing all they faced... and hearing her angelic voice singing "I need thee every hour" ... and "It is well with my soul" started the floodgates all over again...

     It just really spoke to me this Saturday night...


     To all you other families out there facing your own ...
                  I pray you know you are not alone.

     No one's got a monopoly on these earthly painful experiences...

     Best we can do is be there for each other in spirit and in prayer....

     God knows we are grateful for those loving us through ours right now.

     Heartfelt thanks this holy-day weekend...

Putting Life On Hold

     Last night I slept in my own bed for the first time in weeks. You know the feeling?  Comes after a long trip...Even coming off the best of vacations, there is no place like home ...no comfort compares to that of your head hitting your own pillow (and in my case, with cat a close second plop after that).
     That said, I wouldn't call it the world's funnest vacation. For a girl who's not been off her farm for nearly 5 years now...(Gardens and goats'll do that to you) yes, it felt odd that my first trip away would be a 4-hour road trip to Atlanta to be with my brother as he works his spinal cord rehab program...
     As for Ed, he's doing well, (thanks for asking; thanks for prayers) though for sure it is not easy in anyone's book. The day to day work is exhausting physically, mentally and emotionally, and while wired optimistically, neither of us are foolish enough to think we won't have our moments. (We have been warned...And they have teams of support for when these happen, thank God.)
     Not a day goes by that Ed doesn't thank me for (his words, not mine) "putting my life on hold for his..." The thanks I gladly take.  I thank him too. I am grateful to have a brother who's alive right now, so he and I will do our parts to keep the gratitude beach ball thing volleying...
     But as it pertains to Ed's statement, I want to be perfectly clear: My life is NOT on hold. One doesn't put life on hold; life is not "on hold-able" that way...Time marches on. Life is a fluid and rapid river of boundless energy, activity and options, full of twists and turns and he just hit one.  But for sure, there is no "hold" button anywhere on this ride.
     What's more, "putting life on hold" (which for argument's sake, we'll define as stopping what you were going to do, to be there for someone else) is a breeding pool for resentment, and resentment is an emotion we're happy to leave out.  But more important, this whole notion of giving up mine to help you live yours is a bogus proposition, and fortunately, since perception creates our reality, the good news is the slightest tweak in perception can change your world entirely... So framing this notion properly-- and from the get-go --is critical to me.
     Would I have CHOSEN Atlanta as my dream destination first vacation off the farm? Probably not. When it comes to vacations, I prefer England, but I don't think of my life in terms of "work days vs. vacation" anymore, so a road trip is a road trip...(It was actually fun packing my dog on this one, as dogs serve to remind, do they not, just how exciting the smallest thing can be? Roz has kept me going, plus I had also asked for that (i.e. how to properly train therapy dogs for folks who need them, and look at us! Up close and personal that little exercise has been!)
     But when viewed as one continuous journey (as opposed to stopping and starting to get to one destination) a reroute through Atlanta is another stop for directions if you ask me.
     When (past the trauma phase) the doctors looked at us and said, "The best care in the world is 4 hours down the road" it was a no brainer for me. (Ed was a little less spontaneous only because Ed likes seeing people and wanted to make it easy for his family and friends to visit him.) And while that whole social element IS something to factor...(morale being everything on a journey like this)  hey, guess what? In addition to our family back home, we now have new family here...We make new friends everyday...people whose lives, like ours, wound up detouring through Atlanta...people who didn't set out to meet us anymore than we set out to meet them, but people who today touch our lives in ways we could never have imagined.
     Would I be doing something else had this not happened? Sure. Plan was to do what I did last year about this time: grow a garden...hug some goats...add a few more rows of lavender to create my own English garden someday. That will still happen. Or it won't. But whatever happens, life today is anything but "on hold"...It's different...Unfamiliar even. But my life right now is unfolding in ways I, myself, would not have been creative enough to have scripted, and when I stop to think "Just what did I ask that gave me THIS as my answer?" it started to dawn on me that I did, in fact place this order.
     Don't get me wrong. I wouldn't have wished a neck injury on my worst enemy, and certainly not my one and only brother, but I AM living what I asked for. (Sometimes you have to stop long enough to try to remember.)  Flipping through my journal pages of weeks ago, I had requested (and still request) to experience life more deeply...savor its moments more reflectively. (Talk about a slam dunk. You want to really get reflective try looking around at others who, like you, know their lives will never be the same again...Talk about a wake up call...If you don't think THAT will streamline your priorities...)
     More than ever my life, today is unfolding...expanding... widening...deepening. I am suddenly off my farm and out of my comfort zone, tossed wide eyed and and looking in all directions in a world I had paid precious little attention to before...Sure there are different kinds of beds, an odd assortment of chairs... there are also dog parks to explore and helpful strangers showing up in just the right instant to lend a hand... This place we've been living (and I'll be writing more on it in days to come) has the oddest assortment of energies, in this vast array of packaging....Sure, there are some physically challenged bodies, but I don't know when I have walked down hallways or sidewalks and observed (much less felt) so much love...This place houses some of the most sensitive and precious people ever to walk (and roll) the planet, and to think, Ed and I have the honor of meeting them.
     So to be clear Ed...Thanks for the gratitude....That, I will never reject...But for the record, my life is anything but "on hold" for you.. To the contrary...life is about as wide awake and brimming with new experiences as I'd have ever dreamt of living it...What's more each day I'm handed new insights...new ponderables...new sensations...to go along with it...
     For what it's worth,  I don't call that "on hold" ~
     I call that fully living... Living life with meaning...
     To live each day deliberately, with intention, and compassion and hope and appreciation for the smallest of gestures....What could possibly be greater than that?

   

Hilarious or Pathetic--You Decide

     Lest this blog become all wheelchairs/all the time, I thought you might like an update on the world back at home as I remember it, because in truth, I could not be here were it not for the friends and neighbors who moved in like a swat team so that I could be here with my brother as he goes through rehab for his spinal cord injury...
     Never was a point more driven home than last night when I received this picture on my phone just about the time I was taking Roz for her last evening stroll...

     <----In case you can't tell, it's Hix (brother of Rosebud, uncle of Roz)...sitting high atop a couple of nailed-together worker staircases, once used by builders completing my barn loft, (and later removed and reassembled as a goat playground...thanks to Builder Eric who spotted: "Hey, I bet the kids'll love this!" (thus hammering two ratty-tatty sets of worker steps together as a climbing euphoria for my 18 pygmy kids) Leave it do Digital Dave to snap the pic end of week as Hix surveys his kingdom. (Clearly Hix ain't sharing his thrown with no stinkin' goats.)

     [For the record, people stop to pet Roz non-stop throughout the day here in Atlanta, whether we're in dog parks, restaurants or hospital corridors. Those very same people marvel when I tell them  a) she's only a puppy (7 months old),  hence half the size she's gonna be and b) we got 4 more just like her back home...First of many "hilarious or pathetic" options...We'll let you decide...]

     Funnier yet...our same Saturday night, with Roz as my dinner date...(she, having scarfed a bowl of puppy chow, me, sharing my pizza with the security guard who let our delivery driver in)--Ed's wife Kim had arrived earlier in the day, leaving me with a happy brother and a mutt to share my evening with...the ultimate girl's night in!) My last "to do" before pulling out the monkey jams and slathering a mud mask on my face while curling up to a mindless Lifetime Original) was to head out one last time with Roz, to the corner lot where they leave pink baggies for your doggie's poo...

     The night is still young....a perfect sunset (they come later here). The sky was this hazy, pastel pallet of pinks and blues. As it turns out, Roz was in no mood for pooping (no good way to paint that picture...sometimes she's in the zone...other times not...This time, there was too much to distract her...from trains on trestles, trafficky street noises and a karaoke bar just across the way...)
     I check in with home, prompted by the hilarious Hix picture on my phone...just as Roz decides to become part of the perfectly manicured horticulture surrounding the statue in front of our rehab place. "No Roz...Not there!" I'm whispering loud enough for fellow passersby to laugh...(She's not pooping, mind you...She's plopped herself smack dab in a sea of ground cover and begins to wallow as if swimming...Something about the ivy tickling her butt, I guess...Now I'm tickled.)
     "You gotta see this dog" I say to the other end of the line. (Being inept at the techy stuff, my counter, staying with Rosebud (Roz's mama) et al, will have to FaceTime me, lest we get disconnected.)
     As I reverse the camera, so Rosebud can see what her silly girl is doing, Rosebud (on her end of the line) flips upside down and sideways, (I guess thinking belly rubs come with the voice...how to do that via phone lines, we're still working on) ... A second couple passes by.... (Are you getting this picture? It's not me doing FaceTime...It's Rosebud and Roz...one wallowing, one belly up... The humans holding the phones, are the pathetic idiots here..albeit it, laughing ones)
     Hilarious or pathetic? Will let you decide...As for me and my fam, thank God for technology...And thank God for people who are as nuts about animals as I am....Though perhaps not as good as a real-time hug, "I'll hug mine on this end...You hug all the rest..." is our last communique with the family back home.
     Another day in paradise...(be it farm...be it rehab center)
     We do what we do... The conversation may be virtual, but the love is for real and streaming in spades as are the tears of laughter rolling down my face...
                                 To the right----->
is Roz, after her walk and before final goodnights.  (The duties never end.) Ever ready for the hugging, she scarfs up her Aunt Kim's hugs just before calling it a day/a week. (Everybody needs a battery recharge. Pretty sure that's why God made dogs...and the hilarious/pathetic people like us who are nuts about 'em...)
   
   

Life's Curveballs

   

     No sooner do I commit to resuming the blog, do I find myself committing to 2 blogs...One for life as I'm living it (NOT on the farm, as anticipated); one as my brother undergoes rehab for a spinal cord injury that happened 4 weeks ago...(As a friend pointed out yesterday, "Time flies whether we're having fun or not!") Fortunately, while I would not call this "fun" per se, it is engaging ...requiring of us a new level of focus, so to me, living life fully is a worthy aspiration.
     In a nutshell, I got the tomatoes, peas and peppers planted. And then I got a call. (Came as a bunch of texts first; you never want to wake up to that many messages as a certain foreboding comes over you in an instant that "No one's texting me at 3 in the morning with good news.")
     In fact, the news wasn't good, but it could've been worse. Amazing how in an instant, your ways of prioritizing things can get instantly rearranged.
     My brother was in an automobile accident. (This I have written about; we're keeping a CaringBridge page for him, so if you know him and care to follow the more technical side of his rehab journey feel free to bookmark it; it's at https://www.caringbridge.org/visit/edevins) As for me (and in large part, Roz) we'll be sticking to the karlensgarden blog here as how this plays out is becoming a garden unto itself, albeit a different kind of garden for sure.
     For sure life CAN change on a dime. And best I can tell, you can either spazz over it, or you can roll... In this case, we're rolling. (In Ed's case, we're literally rolling as wheelchairs have become a big part of where we're living now, but you can read about that on his page.)
     Once past the trauma of it all, we were encouraged to come to this place called Shepherd Center...one of the nation's leading spinal cord injury rehab facilities, located in Atlanta, GA. My brother (full confession here)... preferred Nashville, as seeing his friends and family on a regular basis he felt would keep his spirits higher than moving 4 hours away where drop ins would not be quite as frequent. (Smart of him to know what lifts him up; meanwhile, everyone, and I do mean EVERYone handling his case back at Vandy said "For the most thorough rehab in your specific situation, Shepherd's is the recommendation.")
     Given the company factor was a big consideration, I offered freely "I'll go!" not knowing in that instant just HOW I'd go or who'd take care of things...but I knew having someone there with him in the early stages in particular, was going to be key, so in my "Commit now/Figure it out later" style I was (and am) happy to be here, though I must say, first time off the farm in 5 years, it's been a bit of a culture shock.
     This is my version of seek ye first the kingdom (not to spin scripture on you) but I'm convinced that if we start with what we feel in our hearts is the highest and most giving thing to do, the rest will be added unto...taken care of by our creator. It's worked for me this far in life. Why stop believing now?
     That said, as with gardens, so with life and in particular, the curveballs such as that we're living today: it takes a village. Not only does Ed have a beautiful support network of family and friends pulling him through, but my own is making this possible for me, so many thanks are due all the way around, both directly and indirectly.  In short, we are both living in a state of perpetual gratitude these days. I'm finding it helps.

     Next blog: The Roz Report. (Learning to play with others that don't look a thing like her (as she is used to back home)...well, that's been a learning curve unto itself... Pictured above is Roz...at the local dog park...n o t  q u i e t sure she's game for playing with Ludwig, the German Shepherd she just met... ("Think I'll just stand up here on the picnic table above the fray," says Roz.) At this stage, she's more familiar with people than dogs, but this too, is a learning curve and a big part of her therapy training.
     Meanwhile, if one of us is stepping out of his comfort zone, we're ALL gonna step out our comfort zones, after all, we're in this together. And as we all know, nothing new gets learned in the comfort zone.

And Then There Was Roz

   

     So lest you tire of all this talk of tubes and toilet habits...liquids coming and going...figure if I'm gonna write a blog called Karlen's Garden it seems a good time to get back to "how this all affects the care-takers" and "wonder just what happens when you watch someone you love's life turn on a dime, which makes you scramble not just to BE there, but be there constantly, consistently, forever uplifting, positive, supportive...
    (This blog is not about me, btw... It's about my sweet Roz.)
     For starters, Roz, (along with my other 4 Pyrs, 18 goats, and 3 cats)...has been amazingly patient...amazingly supportive. Somedays lunch is breakfast. Somedays breakfast is dinner. Somedays, (always fresh water) but no sign of "When she's coming back next?" then suddenly "poof"... oodles of hugs...(Thank you God for making them so unconditional...)
     But Roz -- is my topic of conversation today. And lest this come across as my one snarky post, well, my heart's in the right place. I just find it ironic the rules as we're told them.
     Herein lies the story:
     So my brother, ("Thank You Ed") gets to leave in the next 48 -72 hours for the next chapter of this journey (namely rehab at a place in Atlanta, which shall remain nameless, but they say it's the best in the country).  Known not only for helping those dealing in life-changing injuries, (and specializing in spinal) they also boast encouragement of the support networks (meaning family members)...Though the support network of the support network...? Well...maybe...not so much.
     I begin by saying, I know there are rules. And asking if I might bring Roz (now a registered therapy dog, btw) to be there a) for me (I confess, she's my family representative and being gone from all my family above, I inhaled great energy thinking of Roz making the trek) b) for my brother, (who will, spend time in a wheelchair, if not for therapy alone...wheelchairs being the next round of service training for a Pyr like Roz, aiming for her own great heights to be representative of the breed now highly recommended for returning vets. It's a no-brainer, right? My brother's in rehab; I'll be by his side, but only for the 5 hours a day that they let me...The other 19 ...(when normally I'd be putting out a garden or a cookbook or tending to goats or building a barn), I began making plans to take Roz in for training...(There's a great organization just miles up the road who trains all sorts of breeds for all sorts of things; in short, Roz and I would spend our time in school until available for Ed, where we hoped (wishful thinking) maybe she could practice her skills with the uncle she knows and loves...No brainer, right?)
     But no, no...nay, nay...
     Despite what the website says about the value of canine companions...
          Despite the plethora of people hugging dogs in official looking vests (which Roz now has)
               Despite their own statistic of 87% of participants here benefit from canine therapy...
Don't ask to bring in your own...that might want to learn as her family learns...That might have a mom wanting to work with her while her own brother is working on the very same things in the very same area. The rules say no. No room in the inn...(kinda ironic, now that I think about it given Roz's last 5 months spent volunteering with homeless)

     To be sure, this journey began with my brother...and my focus is seeing him through.
     But as everyone tells me, I'm only as good as my own ability not to 'give out' along the way... I'll gladly give all. (But seriously folks, would it kill you to allow me my own support network at the end of the day?)

     Not giving up hope. There've been gracious offers from friends who'd gladly house Roz. (It just means lots of extra driving, when we could be training...to help people learning to cope with new skills often using (wait for it...wait for it) registered canine companions. Oh the humanity!)

     I just find it funny (if not slightly hypocritical), but in the words of Forrest Gump:
    That's all I have to say about that.

    (Since clearly the prayer thing worked for my brother, maybe this time you pray for Roz...if not her, then please pray for me.)

     Here's embracing this new chapter in Ed's life for sure, but in my own life as well, which is, after all,  the only one I have a say in.  Please pray not only for his strength, but also each and every other family member, likewise juggling new hours, new rules....learning how best to support this guy we all love.

     They say we are tough... Us Evinses, survivors...
     (But Roz is an Evins too.)

   

You Can't Make this S--- Up

   

     So, once again, our life has changed on a dime... Since last posting, we were cheering because Ed had consumed half a bowl of broth and we were waiting, hoping, praying it stayed down and (how to put this delicately) "came through" ~

     And came through it did! (For my staunchly conservative Christian friends, forgive the language, but sometimes humor is the best medicine...I told my nieces and sister-in-law, we're the only family in the world PRAYING right now that Shit Happens ....and happens for us! I swear, I'll never look at that bumper sticker the same again~ LOL!)

     First of all...we thank GOD! Second, I (and of course "Thank you Ed") thank YOU...and third, we thank our family up above... (If I had not been a witness to this one, I wouldn't believe it myself)...

     So last I left him, he hadn't had a bite in 18 days (so I bit him! --Ba-da-boom!)
     But in all seriousness, his tubes were securely in place...machines were doing his bis-niss for him.
   
     I come home for a nap and a bath...next I know, I receive a text saying they're pulling his tubes and gonna try this clear liquid diet thing again... His daughter Shannon, working an internship in Boston to become (get this) a nutritionalist for trauma patients, texts "SLOWLY...GO SLOWLY ON THIS." (Last time we tried this it didn't turn out so well...)

     Keep in mind, he's looking at that hospital bowl of broth like it's a Ruth's Chris's steak. I knew if I had been on that shift, it would've been all I could do to pace things to one spoonful every 10 - 15 minutes, I can tell you that.)

     I text my other niece Tiffany to say "You might want to be there for this...I KNOW how happy he'll be." She was on it like white on rice.

     Patiently we wait... (The ultimate "wait for it...wait for it...")

     Next text (some 12 hours later) is, "They're moving off trauma...to a regular room...AND they are putting him on solid foods AND he can have whatever he wants." (I admit, I wasn't the only one asking "What the flip are they thinking?  From half a bowl of broth to totally solid AND he gets to pick?)

     Who am I to question doctors? Who am I to question God? But when I get the news that Ed has requested Uncle Herschel's Breakfast from Cracker Barrel no less, AND it's on the way, I literally laughed out loud! (For quite frankly, I thought it was a joke.)

     By the time I arrived back last night, Ed was smiling, sitting up, happy as a clam, and he proudly says to me...I've never loved our Uncle Hershel more... coming and going! 

     Folks, give yourselves a hug for us and THANK YOU for the prayers! Looks like we're rehab bound! I'm home now washing clothes and packing for a little more than a 3-hour cruise ~ (Can we say "ROAD TRIP!" Look out Atlanta, here we come!)

     In all seriousness, nothing has EVER proven that prayers work and that miracles CAN and DO happen like our last 24 hours, and we truly DO have you, your prayers, and the good Lord above to thank~

     And if ever we needed proof, that our family over yonder is with us here as well, well...this one said it for us~ Thank you Daddy, Uncle Danny...Uncle Jack...and most of all THANK YOU Uncle Herschel! ) Give our family over there a big ol hug from all of us~ (and please don't take it personally, but Ed's not coming to visit you anytime soon :)

Author's Note: FYI, I have set up a Caring Bridge page for those interested in Ed's day-to-day progress while away at rehab and will make public that (and his mailing) address with the first post. Not that this blog won't reference what's happening from time to time (as he is my life right now), but to let you know the medical progress so as to keep your prayer requests focused, it'll save me from repeating it 1000 times at the end of each day~ More to follow...Again, our sincerest heartfelt thanks to you all for your faith and prayers. Our family feels so blessed...Our God is so good! May this bring comfort to those of you likewise praying for your families...We join in lifting you up as well.)

World's Greatest Patient Award Goes To . . .

   

     My Brother, Ed!
     (If I had stars, I'd post 'em. I'm sure there're emoticons for this, but I don't do emoticons as it's all I can do to read letters, but I digress...)

     This one's for you, Ed!

     For those who know my brother, you can vouch for what I'm about to say ...
     For those of you who do not, let me paint you a picture:
   
     My brother is extremely outgoing. He is super talented. Most of all, he is super witty. To be brutally honest, he loves an audience.  It started with an audience of one when in his childhood, his favorite act was to wait for J U S T the right second to crack a one-liner at the dinner table--(as in precisely when I'd chugged some milk) -- Guy honestly made it his goal each evening to see if he could get me to spew it out my nose...

     May I take this moment, pre-Mother's Day to say, "Mom, we're sorry." (Bless her heart she got to clean up a lot of messes and I got a lot of early baths, but I do think that was the start of his career.)

     In my teens, his talent took wing: he was front and center on Opryland stages: I was front and center, front row every chance I got. Seeing Ed in productions like "For Me And My Gal" and "I Hear America Singing" felt like knowing the cast of Chorus Line... As far as I was concerned, Opryland was Broadway and Ed, pure Broadway material.

     As an adult Ed traded barbershop costumes for business suits, but (how to put it nicely)  Ed hasn't changed much. In fact, he still likes attention and he's actually a bit of a control person. (See kid sister be kind.) He likes to know things, own things...be the first to share things --be on top of the latest. For all the love we share of music and comedy, I rolled my eyes when he PROUDLY posted a selfie of himself, #20 in line, waiting for the latest iPhone. (For the record: being in a mall, much less sleeping there overnight, to purchase a mechanical device is my idea of hell, but by gum, Ed was there, and darn proud of it!)
   
     I share all this to say, that the Ed I'm seeing today is nothing but pure miracle...and by miracle, I don't mean he's amazingly up and walking...what I mean is that if you had told me a year ago that my brother would suffer a broken neck and all that entails, I would've said "Dear Lord, help us all."  My brother likes to control things...and the thought of not controlling things like legs or stomachs or bowels, well, my brain had no place to file that.

     But I'm here to report, Ed's got a new take on control and once again I find myself marveling at the foot of the master...  To be honest, I would never have pegged him a good patient, but he's proven to me that I am the cynic in the family while he is king.

     For those who have asked, Ed's spirits are high; his progress a bit slower than we would've liked, but he's a trooper.  In his "loves attention" way, leave it to him to be stumping the world's finest doctors. While his spinal cord's not severed (and we did backflips over wiggly fingers and toes), his digestive system has taken a bit of a hit and we need him processing food before he can get checked into rehab. But lest you think this a setback (as is our tendency--shame on us) let me tell you about my brother today ...

     For starters, I find it ironic, that for one who has suffered a broken back, he IS the back bone of this family. How he can lie there with no fear, defies logic, but if he has it, he ain't showing it. He is emotional, for sure. But his emotions aren't fearful ones...they are grateful ones --sheer, raw gratitude is all you'll see coming from Ed today.

     Case in point: his first room in Vanderbilt's trauma unit (we've had several) faced the Life Flight helipad. I wasn't there the night it happened, but he shared with me that when the first flight came in his thought was "Crap. I'll never get sleep...Like I need that on top of everything else..." But then he added "It hit me...Whatever/whoever that copter is bringing in right now, is, in this moment, living their worst nightmare... So I began to pray. I decided I can't do much, but I can do this much. I can pray for whoever's being flighted in." 

     More personal yet, my brother says thank you--for EVERYTHING...A clean washcloth, a bed pan, a midnight (wake up) check of things...Thank you. Thank you.Thank you. He's wearing out the thank you's. At one point, while thanking me for an ice chip (and not just one...each and every one) I laughingly said, "Bro...I love you...And I KNOW you're grateful... I truly do...But you've got a tube up your nose and down your throat, what say to spare the vocal cords and take it as a given on the Thank you's...I KNOW you're grateful...and I love it, but for the sake of your throat... It's all good."  to which he said, "Sis...it's the one thing I can do right now for myself...let me have it." 

     Normally I'd turn away so he wouldn't see me tear up....but these days tears have become our new  language...

     While we wait for his tummy and bowels to kick in and join the party, all I can say is his heart is doing double time...and his spirit, taking over.

     Your prayers we do welcome. Colorful cards, just as much...And he can accept visitors, though there are rules for how many, so you might check first. We are hopeful that next week he'll be moved to rehab in Atlanta where I'll be by his side for as long as it takes...Will do my best to keep you posted in the meantime.  I have begun a Caring Bridge page, but I've yet to have time to post anything, so consider you, my FB friends, the first to know...Please share the update if you know someone who's asking about Ed. Keep him, keep us in your prayers.

     While what he's going through I would not wish on my worst enemy, I must say, I would not take anything for this journey...He strengthens my resolve every day.
   
     Let's love him home...Your thoughts, prayers and well wishes are palpable...They lift us more than you could ever know...

     Ed would want me to say to you all ... "Thank you!"