A stark revelation hit me tonight. We are told that if we have "faith as small as a mustard seed you can move mountains... Nothing will be impossible for you" (Matthew 17:20). Picture this. Here's the analogy that came to my head. The mustard seed may as well be the size of the new Dallas Cowboys football stadium (no, I am not a Cowboys fan). My faith is a tiny blade of artificial field turf. My faith is lost within that mustard seed. My faith is a whole order-of-fries-short of a happy meal. I am missing the mark. I have truly received so much grace over the past several months. But I have not walked by faith. I have walked by sight. What I see, I do not like. I have become judgemental, cynical, pessimistic, skeptical. Definitely not the way Mike would be.
When we started this decade, the whole Y2K caused great concern and uncertainty. We weren't sure if all of our grand technology would hold up under the change. Came and went without a hitch. We just kept on going. I look back and it seems like it all kept going downhill. We just got more complacent, less concerned. Then 9/11 hit. We had a sudden change of heart. Lasted a year or so. Then the world just moved on. The economy crashed. Jobs lost. Nations at war. Murder. Rape. Abortion. No God in schools. Don't say Merry Christmas. Blah blah blah.
Mike is gone. World goes on. It's harder and harder to see God in anything. I have innumerable mountains that need to be moved or at least climbed, and my faith is lost inside that mustard seed.
The good news of this revelation is just that. It is the Good News. I do believe the Good News and He loves me enough to bring my lack of faith to my attention. But placing all my cares and worries in Him, my faith is lost in that mustard seed.
I am so grateful He saves by grace and not by works or immeasurable faith. I am no example, no model, not worthy.
I realize the more I learn, the more I need to learn. I have grown in knowledge but not faith. One of my favorite quotes is "Never let your schooling get in the way of your education," by Mark Twain. Pretty smart biblical principle.
I miss Mike. He changed my life by being my brother. He turned it upside down by leaving this world. God tells me there is something good to come of that. Pray that I have faith enough to not miss it. Please keep us all in your prayers as we begin a new day, a new year. I will continue to pray for each of you reading this, also.
Rhonda
Wednesday, December 30, 2009
Tuesday, December 22, 2009
Friday, December 11, 2009
Mike Time
Mike time on earth was often leisurely, laid back and not necessarily on schedule. When you were on Mike time, the world kind of slowed down. It seemed to savor the moment. Mike time was fun, silly, sometimes serious, but mostly, lively. Thirty nine years of Mike time was not enough. Just a drop in the bucket for this life. I got to thinking about how much time has gone by since Mike time stopped...eight months. Seems like forever and just yesterday. The watch according to Mike. Ha! I keep thinking "if I just go here or there, he'll be here or there and I'll be on Mike time." No matter where I look, there is no way to get on Mike time. I have traveled through numerous time zones, towns, states, stayed awake, slept, dreamed. No more Mike time.
But where Mike is...every moment is Mike time, eternal Mike. Now there's a thought! That makes me smile. Eternal Mike time. Mike has barely blinked an eye and these eight months have gone by. He knows only Mike time. No watch, no schedule, no timelines. Just eternity.
Rhonda time is often selfish. I spend a lot of time sad, wondering, missing, pondering. I am slowly learning to remember things. Focus on positive, fun memories. But I keep thinking he's somewhere, if I can just get to him. He'll be there. In this, I am trying to realize "Mike time, eternity," not earthly. Such a hard concept to grasp. I cannot touch it. I cannot grasp a concept. I cannot touch Mike. I cannot see him. I cannot talk to him. I cannot find him. I want him on my time, on my watch. But my time is fleeting, a vapor.
So I'll ponder my time and what I have to do to get to Mike time, eternal. Eternal Mike time. Eternal Mike. Eternity. Through my tears, that makes me smile. An eternal Mike. Wow! Thank God that is possible.
But where Mike is...every moment is Mike time, eternal Mike. Now there's a thought! That makes me smile. Eternal Mike time. Mike has barely blinked an eye and these eight months have gone by. He knows only Mike time. No watch, no schedule, no timelines. Just eternity.
Rhonda time is often selfish. I spend a lot of time sad, wondering, missing, pondering. I am slowly learning to remember things. Focus on positive, fun memories. But I keep thinking he's somewhere, if I can just get to him. He'll be there. In this, I am trying to realize "Mike time, eternity," not earthly. Such a hard concept to grasp. I cannot touch it. I cannot grasp a concept. I cannot touch Mike. I cannot see him. I cannot talk to him. I cannot find him. I want him on my time, on my watch. But my time is fleeting, a vapor.
So I'll ponder my time and what I have to do to get to Mike time, eternal. Eternal Mike time. Eternal Mike. Eternity. Through my tears, that makes me smile. An eternal Mike. Wow! Thank God that is possible.
Wednesday, November 25, 2009
A foreign land
As you well know, I have to put words to my feelings, mostly for my benefit (and for my husband). I need to be able to describe how I feel so I can understand and cope. I had a strange experience tonight. I was in a coliseum full of people. As I looked around, all I could see was a different me in a strange place full of strange people. I did not recognize anyone but those I sat with. If I had a mirror, I would have seen a stranger. I realized that I have been seeing the world differently. Your first thought may be, "of course because things are different." Again, I need to be able to describe those feelings. I realized that I have never known the world without Mike. You see, he was my older brother. There was no life, for me, before Mike. There are a few of us in our family who probably feel the same way. And I can remember some looks on Laura's face that would make you believe there was no life, for her, before Mike, either (like the first time I met her and she glowed in his presence!). Suddenly, I am in a foreign land. I am learning a new language in this strange place. My thoughts, routes, interactions, body language, diet, and habits are all changing. My responses are changing. I don't remember applying for a passport to this land.
Fortunately, I chose to accept Jesus as my Lord and Saviour as a young girl. Do you know what He reminded me of with this new "foreign land" revelation? That I AM in a foreign land. I am not home, yet. I do not define myself by this world or by who or what is in it, but by who I am in Him. Isn't He sweet to come along side me and gently remind me of this? I am not supposed to feel "at home" in this world. I am just passing through. "I am the way, the truth, and the light," says the Lord. That's my passport. My passport to eternal life with Him, with Mike, and all the Saints that have gone before us.
The roller coaster continues. Just when I am feeling down and having these hard, seemingly sad revelations, He pushes (and pulls) me up out of that valley and reveals HIS mountain. I am glad He wants me on the mountain. I like the mountains!
Rhonda
Fortunately, I chose to accept Jesus as my Lord and Saviour as a young girl. Do you know what He reminded me of with this new "foreign land" revelation? That I AM in a foreign land. I am not home, yet. I do not define myself by this world or by who or what is in it, but by who I am in Him. Isn't He sweet to come along side me and gently remind me of this? I am not supposed to feel "at home" in this world. I am just passing through. "I am the way, the truth, and the light," says the Lord. That's my passport. My passport to eternal life with Him, with Mike, and all the Saints that have gone before us.
The roller coaster continues. Just when I am feeling down and having these hard, seemingly sad revelations, He pushes (and pulls) me up out of that valley and reveals HIS mountain. I am glad He wants me on the mountain. I like the mountains!
Rhonda
Tuesday, November 10, 2009
Things that make you go hmmmm....
My Granddaddy is 93 (soon to be 94). Mike was 39 when he died. Flip the numbers. Hmmmm.
Granddaddy survived both Pacific and European Tours in World War II. He has survived Rheumatic fever, tuberculosis, heart problems, and numerous other ailments.
Mike was blessed (and cursed) to survive his first wreck. He spent 2 months in the hospital. When he was able to get out of a wheelchair and walk on his own, he went full throttle for the next 19 years. For some reason, 39 years was his number. Why not 93? Why not 40? I want answers. I am past the anger part, I think. Maybe not. I just miss him. I want to call him and tell him some good news I got but...
The very thing that almost took his life 19 years ago, did so this time. Hmmmm.
I spend a lot of time in thought. Even in that place between dream, sleep, and awake, I am thinking. All the time, I am thinking about Mike. The hospital. Christmas. The wreck. His truck. The ventilator. Hunter. Laura. Injuries. Pain. The 2 worst phone calls, ever. Hmmmm.
What's he doing up there anyway? Why can't he still be Dad, and Bro', and Son, and Mike, and Michael, and Miichael (yes, two Is, for Julie's southern drawl)? Hmmmm.
Granddaddy survived both Pacific and European Tours in World War II. He has survived Rheumatic fever, tuberculosis, heart problems, and numerous other ailments.
Mike was blessed (and cursed) to survive his first wreck. He spent 2 months in the hospital. When he was able to get out of a wheelchair and walk on his own, he went full throttle for the next 19 years. For some reason, 39 years was his number. Why not 93? Why not 40? I want answers. I am past the anger part, I think. Maybe not. I just miss him. I want to call him and tell him some good news I got but...
The very thing that almost took his life 19 years ago, did so this time. Hmmmm.
I spend a lot of time in thought. Even in that place between dream, sleep, and awake, I am thinking. All the time, I am thinking about Mike. The hospital. Christmas. The wreck. His truck. The ventilator. Hunter. Laura. Injuries. Pain. The 2 worst phone calls, ever. Hmmmm.
What's he doing up there anyway? Why can't he still be Dad, and Bro', and Son, and Mike, and Michael, and Miichael (yes, two Is, for Julie's southern drawl)? Hmmmm.
What happens to one of us, happens to all of us. I read this in reference to the shootings at Fort Hood. When one is lost, we all lose. The brokeness of the world overwhelms me. Mike made this world a little better for a lot of people. Why is he not here? Hmmmm.
Questions without answers. The "hmmmms" of the world leave us empty, longing, hurting, searching.
My faith has not waivered. My "hmmmms" are human. Contemplation, not condemnation.
Hmmmm.
Rhonda
Sunday, November 1, 2009
The Power of a Handkerchief
I love to write. Not because I am profound or a great writer but because I love words. I love how words come together to speak to us in so many different ways. I love word origins and history. When they join to make phrases, sentences, and sayings, they light a spark I can't explain. I love how there are so many ways to say the same thing. And the source/sender of the writing or words have a big impact on the receiver. Some prefer eloquent, poetic expressions. Some prefer straight to the point. Take the following example. One of my favorite sayings from my husband is "it is what it is." It took a couple of years of being married to him to understand and accept the importance and profundity of this statement. It was too simple, for my brain. Surely there is more to it than that. That great, precursor to the English language, Latin, has a similar saying, res ipsa loquitor, translated, the thing speaks for itself. Both say the same thing. The latter is often used in the field of law. My husband would not make a good lawyer because he would probably say, "It is what it is, judge," versus an eloquent counselor who says, "your honor, the thing speaks for itself." Both say the same thing but the sender and receiver need to speak and hear it a certain way.
I write all this to preface this entry. I have not written for a couple of weeks, hoping that the events of today would strike some profound, new thoughts, feelings, or enlightenment. Today was All Saints Day and recognized in the church by those that have gone before us. I went to two services, today, that graciously recognized Mike. With that, I share the following:
Have you ever pondered the power of a handkerchief? It's a thin, square of cloth, flimsy in appearance. It can be pretty and dainty and fit neatly in a purse or plain and simple and fit in a pocket. Some are a little bigger and used as bandannas. They are strong enough to contain the unmentionables from our nose, just thick enough to absorb the tears from our eyes, the right size to conceal a sobbing face , tough enough to withstand the tight squeeze of an anxious hand, durable enough to bind wounds, and tightly woven to withstand the years of washing. My Dad always carries a handkerchief, so does my husband. There is something very comforting in that little cloth. A simple thing, really. Just knowing it is available if any of the above occurs is a source of comfort. It kind of reminds me of Jesus. Now, I am not saying Jesus catches my snot, but He would if I needed Him to. He is not above it. That's why He gave somebody the brains to create that little cloth. Thank you, Jesus, for the handkerchief.
The next entry is not my own. While I was looking for or hoping to receive some powerful message, it stared right back at me from the church bulletin. There is no need to re-invent the wheel. Someone else already wrote, so eloquently, what I wanted to say. So here it goes...
As written in the Morris Chapel United Methodist Church Hymnal, November 1, 2009, All Saints Day, A Service of Remembrance, Recited by the Congregation
"A Prayer for All Saints"
Ever-living God,
this day revives in us memories of loved ones who are no more.
What happiness we shared when they walked among us.
What joy, when loving, and being loved, we lived our lives together.
There memory is a blessing forever.
Months or years may have passed, and still we feel near to them.
Our hearts yearn for them.
Though the bitter grief has softened, a duller pain abides;
for the place where once they stood is empty now.
The links of life are broken, but the links of love and longing cannot break.
Their souls are bound up in ours forever.
We see them now with the eye of memory,
their faults forgotten, their virtues grow larger.
So does goodness live, and weakness fade from sight.
We remember them with gratitude and bless their names.
There memory is a blessing forever.
And we remember, as well the members
who but yesterday were part of our congregation and community.
To all who cared for us and labored for all people, we pay tribute.
May we prove worthy of carrying on the tradition of our faith,
for now the task is ours.
Their souls are bound up in ours forever.
We give you thanks that they now live and reign with you.
As a great crowd of witnesses,
they surround us with their blessings,
and offer you hymns of prayers and thanksgiving.
They are alive forevermore.
Amen
It is what it is. I can't improve on it or the day anymore than that. This is how the Lord spoke to me.
Missing Mike,
Rhonda
I write all this to preface this entry. I have not written for a couple of weeks, hoping that the events of today would strike some profound, new thoughts, feelings, or enlightenment. Today was All Saints Day and recognized in the church by those that have gone before us. I went to two services, today, that graciously recognized Mike. With that, I share the following:
Have you ever pondered the power of a handkerchief? It's a thin, square of cloth, flimsy in appearance. It can be pretty and dainty and fit neatly in a purse or plain and simple and fit in a pocket. Some are a little bigger and used as bandannas. They are strong enough to contain the unmentionables from our nose, just thick enough to absorb the tears from our eyes, the right size to conceal a sobbing face , tough enough to withstand the tight squeeze of an anxious hand, durable enough to bind wounds, and tightly woven to withstand the years of washing. My Dad always carries a handkerchief, so does my husband. There is something very comforting in that little cloth. A simple thing, really. Just knowing it is available if any of the above occurs is a source of comfort. It kind of reminds me of Jesus. Now, I am not saying Jesus catches my snot, but He would if I needed Him to. He is not above it. That's why He gave somebody the brains to create that little cloth. Thank you, Jesus, for the handkerchief.
The next entry is not my own. While I was looking for or hoping to receive some powerful message, it stared right back at me from the church bulletin. There is no need to re-invent the wheel. Someone else already wrote, so eloquently, what I wanted to say. So here it goes...
As written in the Morris Chapel United Methodist Church Hymnal, November 1, 2009, All Saints Day, A Service of Remembrance, Recited by the Congregation
"A Prayer for All Saints"
Ever-living God,
this day revives in us memories of loved ones who are no more.
What happiness we shared when they walked among us.
What joy, when loving, and being loved, we lived our lives together.
There memory is a blessing forever.
Months or years may have passed, and still we feel near to them.
Our hearts yearn for them.
Though the bitter grief has softened, a duller pain abides;
for the place where once they stood is empty now.
The links of life are broken, but the links of love and longing cannot break.
Their souls are bound up in ours forever.
We see them now with the eye of memory,
their faults forgotten, their virtues grow larger.
So does goodness live, and weakness fade from sight.
We remember them with gratitude and bless their names.
There memory is a blessing forever.
And we remember, as well the members
who but yesterday were part of our congregation and community.
To all who cared for us and labored for all people, we pay tribute.
May we prove worthy of carrying on the tradition of our faith,
for now the task is ours.
Their souls are bound up in ours forever.
We give you thanks that they now live and reign with you.
As a great crowd of witnesses,
they surround us with their blessings,
and offer you hymns of prayers and thanksgiving.
They are alive forevermore.
Amen
It is what it is. I can't improve on it or the day anymore than that. This is how the Lord spoke to me.
Missing Mike,
Rhonda
Monday, October 19, 2009
The lighter side of random thoughts.
I don't recall Mom asking if Mike was wearing clean underwear.
Mom and Dad will have to come to me to talk. Who am I gonna talk to about Mom and Dad?
Hunter turns 13 in 2 years. I sooooo wanted to be a fly on the wall watching Mike get his!
Mike and I will not get to play Jesse and Maude Phillips! Very disappointing!
What does normal mean, anyway?
It took Mike's death to realize he is the sane one!
A peanut butter and jelly sandwich tastes much better after it has been thrown against a refrigerator.
Some of this will only be funny to a few. I apologize for that. Maybe those stories will be told another time.
Happy Birthday, Dad!
Mom and Dad will have to come to me to talk. Who am I gonna talk to about Mom and Dad?
Hunter turns 13 in 2 years. I sooooo wanted to be a fly on the wall watching Mike get his!
Mike and I will not get to play Jesse and Maude Phillips! Very disappointing!
What does normal mean, anyway?
It took Mike's death to realize he is the sane one!
A peanut butter and jelly sandwich tastes much better after it has been thrown against a refrigerator.
Some of this will only be funny to a few. I apologize for that. Maybe those stories will be told another time.
Happy Birthday, Dad!
Sunday, October 4, 2009
I am sorry to tell you but...
You have been diagnosed with grief. Grief is almost like having a disease. Some debilitating, have-to-learn-how-to-live-with, for the rest of your life, disease. Something like diabetes, or high blood pressure. You will have to modify your lifestyle to accommodate it. Some days you will have everything under control, then your sugar or blood pressure or feelings go way too high or way too low and you find yourself in an emergency state of needing rescue. How could Mike let this happen? How could God let this happen?
How can I have this disease process? After all, grief is a process, right? A life-long process. Am I a manic? Some days I have energy like a Rat Terrier and other days I feel like an old hound dog. My eyes and tail sag. I just assume lie in bed or on the front porch. It shows up without warning signs. I am emotional for no real reason. I have no energy even on days off. Then, I go to work like the Rat Terrier on a major caffeine high and no one can keep up with me. Explain this to me.
I have spent the past 15 years in some form of emergency and critical care. No one or no thing has prepared me for this response. It is beyond my comprehension and education. It is a life education. I would not have picked this as an elective in college. No thanks. But here I am learning on a moment by moment basis the whole awful, terrible, roller coaster process.
I have to share a very honest moment I had last week. I had a major low. I just plain hurt. I missed Mike. I cried uncontrollable tears, down to the tips of my toes. I swear they cried. I felt it with every ounce of my being. Then, I decided I needed to do something different. Something I have not been able to do. I decided to look at the video played during Mike's memorial celebration (yeah, right. What celebration?). A little more info...I am on another travel nursing assignment in Asheville, NC. I brought the dvd with me in case I decided to finally look at pictures of Mike. After all, I have only, briefly been able to look at him. And only once have I seen the video displayed during the visitation. I have not even seen the video played during the memorial celebration. So, I thought I grabbed one from home to bring with me to Asheville. It's about 1am in the morning. I have cried with no relief. I load this dvd onto my computer. And what pops up? Something from my husband's rescue squad. I grabbed from the very place I had left one of the dvds but I grabbed the wrong one. So, by myself, in the wee hours of the morning, in between the tears, I had to laugh. It was classic, Mike. Something always happens. Something a little wrong or misadventure. But, obviously, a little right. Maybe I did not need to see that right then. Maybe I needed to laugh. Whatever it was, it needed to be.
I have no explanation for Mike's wreck. None. I have no explanation for his death. But it needed to be. Grandaddy made the statement that Mike was tired. So, I guess, God took him to eternal rest and relaxation. I have no explanation for my new disease. None. But I am learning to cope. Moment by moment. Hour by hour. Day by day. It is a lifelong process. Patience. Grace. Understanding. I miss you, Mikey. But I am learning to live with your absence. It is a process. A disease of sorts. So it was a blessing to have you in my life. Absence of a good thing leads to a disease. Hmmmmm.
Until next time,
Love,
Rhonda
How can I have this disease process? After all, grief is a process, right? A life-long process. Am I a manic? Some days I have energy like a Rat Terrier and other days I feel like an old hound dog. My eyes and tail sag. I just assume lie in bed or on the front porch. It shows up without warning signs. I am emotional for no real reason. I have no energy even on days off. Then, I go to work like the Rat Terrier on a major caffeine high and no one can keep up with me. Explain this to me.
I have spent the past 15 years in some form of emergency and critical care. No one or no thing has prepared me for this response. It is beyond my comprehension and education. It is a life education. I would not have picked this as an elective in college. No thanks. But here I am learning on a moment by moment basis the whole awful, terrible, roller coaster process.
I have to share a very honest moment I had last week. I had a major low. I just plain hurt. I missed Mike. I cried uncontrollable tears, down to the tips of my toes. I swear they cried. I felt it with every ounce of my being. Then, I decided I needed to do something different. Something I have not been able to do. I decided to look at the video played during Mike's memorial celebration (yeah, right. What celebration?). A little more info...I am on another travel nursing assignment in Asheville, NC. I brought the dvd with me in case I decided to finally look at pictures of Mike. After all, I have only, briefly been able to look at him. And only once have I seen the video displayed during the visitation. I have not even seen the video played during the memorial celebration. So, I thought I grabbed one from home to bring with me to Asheville. It's about 1am in the morning. I have cried with no relief. I load this dvd onto my computer. And what pops up? Something from my husband's rescue squad. I grabbed from the very place I had left one of the dvds but I grabbed the wrong one. So, by myself, in the wee hours of the morning, in between the tears, I had to laugh. It was classic, Mike. Something always happens. Something a little wrong or misadventure. But, obviously, a little right. Maybe I did not need to see that right then. Maybe I needed to laugh. Whatever it was, it needed to be.
I have no explanation for Mike's wreck. None. I have no explanation for his death. But it needed to be. Grandaddy made the statement that Mike was tired. So, I guess, God took him to eternal rest and relaxation. I have no explanation for my new disease. None. But I am learning to cope. Moment by moment. Hour by hour. Day by day. It is a lifelong process. Patience. Grace. Understanding. I miss you, Mikey. But I am learning to live with your absence. It is a process. A disease of sorts. So it was a blessing to have you in my life. Absence of a good thing leads to a disease. Hmmmmm.
Until next time,
Love,
Rhonda
Friday, September 18, 2009
Random Thoughts
The following are some of my random thoughts, lately.
There is a whole new meaning to storing up treasures in heaven.
Is it wrong to be anxious for Christ to return ASAP?
I have lost a part of me, my flesh and blood. The closest connection.
One more day. One more chance. One more...no longer cliche'.
Ackerpersaingogicky. Only a few will understand that.
Freebird.
There is a whole new meaning to storing up treasures in heaven.
Is it wrong to be anxious for Christ to return ASAP?
I have lost a part of me, my flesh and blood. The closest connection.
One more day. One more chance. One more...no longer cliche'.
Ackerpersaingogicky. Only a few will understand that.
Freebird.
The following are comments from some of Mike's family.
I can hear his voice in my head and feel his hug around my arms. These are senses I hope to never forget. He will be in my heart and my thoughts forever! I will be happy for the day when we are all reunited. I love you Michael and I wish so much we would have had more time together then just short visits here and there.
Catherine
When I think of Michael (I always called him Michael) I will never forget the way he always greeted me with a smile and a gentle, “Hey Aunt Libby, how are you?” then always a big hug.
Libby
I always called him Michael too or I guess I should say "Miiichael." He loved the way I said his name. He had a way of reading into your mind and just "getting you" when it seemed not many people always did. It didn't matter how long in between the visits were he welcomed us with big open arms and started just where we left off. I feel his presence so much more than I ever could have imagined. It's difficult for those left behind but his absolute joy now brings comfort. I love you Miiichael.
Julie
Where to start? Mike has always had such a special place in my heart. From the great big bear hugs, to the comforting words, "I Love you!" You could always feel the love that he shared just by being with him. I am gratetful that I got to be a part of his life. He always made you realize that there was always someone that was worse off than you! His Love fills the void in my heart. Love to Mike the big Teddy Bear in the Sky!
Renee
I miss Mike all the time. When I sit back and think about the same things that he and I have been through it is amazing how much alike we are. Everytime I go to clean his mom's house or we have a family get together I wish so much to have him greet me one more time with the powerful handshake that he used to always give me and the "Hey cuz" greeting he always met me with. Thankfully by the grace of God I will experience this again but he will be meeting me on the streets of gold!!! Until I see you again Cuz I Love You!!!
James
In thinking about Michael and his life, and all the loved ones who are left here wounded and wondering, I remembered a passage from one of my favorite authors, Maya Angelou.
In Letter to My Daughter, Angelou writes:
I find it very difficult to let a friend or beloved go into that country of no return. I answer the heroic question, “Death, where is thy sting?” with “It is here in heart, and my mind, and my memories.”
I am besieged with painful awe at the vacuum left by the dead. Where did she go? Where is he now? Are they, as the poet James William Johnson said, resting in the bosom of Jesus?...
I can find relief to the questions only when I can see that I am not obliged to know everything.
I remind myself that it is sufficient to know what I know and that what I know may not always be true. When I find myself filling with rage over the loss of a beloved, I try as soon as possible to remember that my concerns and questions should be focused on what I learned, or what I have left to learn, from my departed love.
What legacy was left which can help me in the art of living a good life?
Did I learn to be kinder, to be more patient and more generous, more loving, more ready to laugh and more easy to accept honest tears?
If I accept those legacies of my departed beloveds, I am able to say thank you to them for their love and thank you to God for their lives.
Thanks, Michael, for your smile, your laugh, your hugs. Thank you, God, for Michael.
Jeannie.
Tuesday, September 15, 2009
Absence stares you in the face
An empty easy chair. A certain empty seat at the table. A voicemail unanswered. A punchline with less laughter. A job unfilled. Empty shoes. A tractor with no rider. A picture with no life for comparison. A question with no answers. Staring at absence. Visualizing presence. Wishing for life.
I had no idea of the power of grief. The power of absence. The world without Mike. Everyday I wake up I am reminded as absence stares back at me. It glares, it penetrates. How can nothing look back at me and hurt so much? Isn't absence the opposite of presence? Nothing the opposite of something? Nothing can hurt me. Something can. But in this case, it is the opposite. If you are confused, welcome to my world.
I promised to post others' sentiments and memoirs of Mike. I am still collecting those. I wish to post more of that and less of me. I thank each of you for continuing to share this painful journey, however. For me, writing is a way to express and vent. I can write better than I can speak my feelings. My tongue is mute when it comes to speaking my feelings of this loss. If only I could silence the angst in my head. Relieve the angst in my body.
No one told me that grief manifests physically. Maybe they did. I don't remember. But I know it showed up. It stares at me. It cuts me. It hurts me.
On behalf of the entire Mike Watson Family, thank you for your continued prayers and support.
Love,
Rhonda
I had no idea of the power of grief. The power of absence. The world without Mike. Everyday I wake up I am reminded as absence stares back at me. It glares, it penetrates. How can nothing look back at me and hurt so much? Isn't absence the opposite of presence? Nothing the opposite of something? Nothing can hurt me. Something can. But in this case, it is the opposite. If you are confused, welcome to my world.
I promised to post others' sentiments and memoirs of Mike. I am still collecting those. I wish to post more of that and less of me. I thank each of you for continuing to share this painful journey, however. For me, writing is a way to express and vent. I can write better than I can speak my feelings. My tongue is mute when it comes to speaking my feelings of this loss. If only I could silence the angst in my head. Relieve the angst in my body.
No one told me that grief manifests physically. Maybe they did. I don't remember. But I know it showed up. It stares at me. It cuts me. It hurts me.
On behalf of the entire Mike Watson Family, thank you for your continued prayers and support.
Love,
Rhonda
Sunday, August 30, 2009
Sunday, August 30, 2009
I had dinner at Mom and Dad's tonight. They were having a small dinner party for their neighbors' birthdays. As Mom always does when she is entertaining, she prepared a beautiful meal and table. She used their dining room. As we were serving ourselves in the kitchen and making our way into the dining room, it occurred to me that this was the first time I was eating in there since my last dinner with Mike (and his last dinner) the Sunday before his wreck. It shocked me so much that I said it out loud, without knowing the ramifications of that statement. Mom and Dad had not eaten in there, either. I did not know that. I thought it was just me. Needless to say, there were a few moments of holding our breathes and shedding a few tears. I blurted out that fact without thinking, right in front of their guests. Thankfully, their neighbors are more than just neighbors, they are friends. They have been wonderfully supportive to our family. They were understanding.
I have already anticipated other "firsts" without Mike, like Thanksgiving and Christmas. Those are the obvious that we all know will be difficult. But the everyday, or lesser events are no longer just that. They are everyday without Mike. No, we did not see each other everyday, but at least we were in the world together. I cannot express how crazy, ridiculous, frustrating, maddening, and incomprehensibly hard this is. So much so that at times I am numb. There are times I want so much to just grab and hold onto Laura or Hunter just because. Just because.
I am compiling more Mike memoirs for future postings. Please feel free to forward them to me at rmw4jc@yahoo.com
Love,
Rhonda
I have already anticipated other "firsts" without Mike, like Thanksgiving and Christmas. Those are the obvious that we all know will be difficult. But the everyday, or lesser events are no longer just that. They are everyday without Mike. No, we did not see each other everyday, but at least we were in the world together. I cannot express how crazy, ridiculous, frustrating, maddening, and incomprehensibly hard this is. So much so that at times I am numb. There are times I want so much to just grab and hold onto Laura or Hunter just because. Just because.
I am compiling more Mike memoirs for future postings. Please feel free to forward them to me at rmw4jc@yahoo.com
Love,
Rhonda
Thursday, August 13, 2009
Tribute to Mike
As I read back over this, I realize that one little tribute is hardly enough to sum up Mike and how I feel about him. However, when I wrote this, just before the Memorial Celebration, it brought smiles and happy thoughts of him. I hope you enjoy it.
Read by Rhonda, May 3, 2009, at the Mike Watson Memorial Celebration.
As most who know me and my husband can certainly attest to this, I do not like to dress up. I like to be comfortable. Given my chosen profession of a Paramedic and nurse, I have worn a uniform for years. When I am off work, I like to be comfortable. Heels were created by the devil as far as I am concerned. My husband actually thinks I am crazy if I wear heels or dress up excessively in lieu of comfort. In fact the older I have gotten, the less I have cared about dressing up, make up or the perfect hairstyle. I was never too keen on men who preferred the dress up type of girl. But today is a little different.
Over the years, I would once in a while wear a cute outfit, do my hair really well or put on a little make up to look, well, pretty. Most of the time I was so ready to go home, change and take a shower. There were few exceptions. In my brother’s presence was one of them. He would actually tell me I looked cute or pretty or I should dress up more often. Maybe it was because Mike was a flirt and family was no exception.
Dad’s parents used to give us money for Christmas. One year when I was about 8, I found a beautiful rabbit fur coat I so desperately wanted. It was expensive and more than a little girl who is going to quickly outgrow should have for Christmas. My brother knew how badly I wanted it so he gave his Christmas money to mom and dad to use with mine so I could have that fur coat. He liked his little sister to look pretty. And he thought she was.
Few people have ever made me feel pretty. Not because they have not tried. It just has not been a big focus in my life. So as I stand here today in my pretty, albeit, loud dress, I am feeling and looking pretty for Mike. He liked me that way. It was special to him. If you see me dressed up or wearing my “Mike mascara,” it will be in some way in honor to Mike. And as a girl if you have ever been hugged, kissed, or loved by my brother, you are pretty. He loved all girls. I am so lucky and blessed that he flirted with me first
Read by Rhonda, May 3, 2009, at the Mike Watson Memorial Celebration.
As most who know me and my husband can certainly attest to this, I do not like to dress up. I like to be comfortable. Given my chosen profession of a Paramedic and nurse, I have worn a uniform for years. When I am off work, I like to be comfortable. Heels were created by the devil as far as I am concerned. My husband actually thinks I am crazy if I wear heels or dress up excessively in lieu of comfort. In fact the older I have gotten, the less I have cared about dressing up, make up or the perfect hairstyle. I was never too keen on men who preferred the dress up type of girl. But today is a little different.
Over the years, I would once in a while wear a cute outfit, do my hair really well or put on a little make up to look, well, pretty. Most of the time I was so ready to go home, change and take a shower. There were few exceptions. In my brother’s presence was one of them. He would actually tell me I looked cute or pretty or I should dress up more often. Maybe it was because Mike was a flirt and family was no exception.
Dad’s parents used to give us money for Christmas. One year when I was about 8, I found a beautiful rabbit fur coat I so desperately wanted. It was expensive and more than a little girl who is going to quickly outgrow should have for Christmas. My brother knew how badly I wanted it so he gave his Christmas money to mom and dad to use with mine so I could have that fur coat. He liked his little sister to look pretty. And he thought she was.
Few people have ever made me feel pretty. Not because they have not tried. It just has not been a big focus in my life. So as I stand here today in my pretty, albeit, loud dress, I am feeling and looking pretty for Mike. He liked me that way. It was special to him. If you see me dressed up or wearing my “Mike mascara,” it will be in some way in honor to Mike. And as a girl if you have ever been hugged, kissed, or loved by my brother, you are pretty. He loved all girls. I am so lucky and blessed that he flirted with me first
Sunday, August 2, 2009
A day in ICU
I had reached a point of mental, physical, and emotional exhaustion, a breaking point. God sent me to the ICU... Intensive Christ Uplifting. I went to the Deeper Still Conference by Beth Moore. She was accompanied by Kay Aurthur and Priscilla Shirer. There were many points to this conference. So many women there, and everywhere, have "issues" and so much to deal with. But the focus of this conference was not about "our issues." It was about living in the power of the living spirit of our Lord and Saviour and uplifting Christ during all of our life experiences. I cried, I laughed, I sang, I celebrated. I felt intense emotion and healing. A day of Intensive Christ Uplifting will handle any ailment or issue. It may not change our ailments but is changes our response to them. The beauty of all of it was uplifting Christ no matter what our circumstances and seeing over 11,000 women do the same thing. Laura, her sister Heather, and her mother were there, also. I also shared the experience with 2 wonderful godly friends, women with their own stories and struggles.
My point is that we all have issues and life struggles. Our grief has been a real, life-changing challenge. Whatever your challenge, spend a day in ICU, Intensive Christ Uplifing. When you uplift Christ, He CARRIES you and keeps you out of a constant state of emergency.
Please, don't hesitate to post your Mike memories here or email them to me at rmw4jc@yahoo.com.
Love,
Rhonda
My point is that we all have issues and life struggles. Our grief has been a real, life-changing challenge. Whatever your challenge, spend a day in ICU, Intensive Christ Uplifing. When you uplift Christ, He CARRIES you and keeps you out of a constant state of emergency.
Please, don't hesitate to post your Mike memories here or email them to me at rmw4jc@yahoo.com.
Love,
Rhonda
Sunday, July 26, 2009
In the coming weeks, I will be posting what some of us read at Mike's memorial celebration. I have, personally, wanted to reflect on those and give others the same opportunity. In the meantime, it seems we each are dealing with our ups and downs. Thankfully, not all at the same time.
If any of you have stories you would like to share, please feel free to post them here, or email them to me. We need to reflect as we move on.
I have been told by so many who have experienced grief that "you will have good days and bad days. " And that it "will hit you for no reason." I have been especially emotional the past 2 days, without any real reason. I guess that is what everyone has meant.
So I have no words of wisdom or eloquence, right now. Just a sad, broken heart, once again.
With that, I ask for continued prayer and uplifting for the whole Mike Watson, Jr family. It seems we are beginning yet another stage in life without him. Everyday is a new stage. That, to put it plain and simply....sucks. Forgive my term. I just don't know how else to say it and sometimes sugar-coating does not help.
Do know that the Lord remains our strength and redeemer. I have felt His presence and been so far away from it at the same time. I guess, at this moment, He seems rather far. I don't remember moving and I know He has not left. I just don't feel a lot right now, except sadness, numbness and sheer exhaustion.
My email is rmw4jc@yahoo.com.
Prayerfully,
Rhonda
If any of you have stories you would like to share, please feel free to post them here, or email them to me. We need to reflect as we move on.
I have been told by so many who have experienced grief that "you will have good days and bad days. " And that it "will hit you for no reason." I have been especially emotional the past 2 days, without any real reason. I guess that is what everyone has meant.
So I have no words of wisdom or eloquence, right now. Just a sad, broken heart, once again.
With that, I ask for continued prayer and uplifting for the whole Mike Watson, Jr family. It seems we are beginning yet another stage in life without him. Everyday is a new stage. That, to put it plain and simply....sucks. Forgive my term. I just don't know how else to say it and sometimes sugar-coating does not help.
Do know that the Lord remains our strength and redeemer. I have felt His presence and been so far away from it at the same time. I guess, at this moment, He seems rather far. I don't remember moving and I know He has not left. I just don't feel a lot right now, except sadness, numbness and sheer exhaustion.
My email is rmw4jc@yahoo.com.
Prayerfully,
Rhonda
Tuesday, July 7, 2009
The "G" Theme
It seems to be that during our lives we each experience a prevailing theme, emotion or cirmcumstance. It can vary from time to time. As I look over the past few months I have experienced overwhelming Grief. In the midst of the Grief, I have experienced God's amazing Grace and Goodness. I don't know what other experience I would have to go through to have this Grace. It is a Gift from God. Now I am not saying I am happy about Mike being gone. I miss him terribly and want so much to see him and touch him. After all, it was just a few months ago that I last talked to him. Not much time in the big scheme of things. Yet eternity considering I have to wait till eternity to see him again.
I wonder if this is from whence the phrase "Good Grief" hailed. It seems like an oxymoron. I don't like Grief. It hurts. I dominates. It aches. But God's Grace is Greater and Good. We know about the valleys we have to go through to stand on the mountain of God. I think that is part of what my Grief has been about. That valley is low and long. But that mountain is high and mighty. God's Grace is a Gift of His Goodness through which His Glory is revealed.
As I read back over this writing, only one "negative G theme" is present. But multiple "positive G" themes" are present. God is Good. If you have any doubt, re-read my themes. Whatever your valley, God's Grace and Goodness will bring you out of it to stand with Him on that mountain of Glory.
Only God can make me sing praises while in a valley. Nothing else I have tried has such an effect. Thank you, God, for your Glorious Grace!
I wonder if this is from whence the phrase "Good Grief" hailed. It seems like an oxymoron. I don't like Grief. It hurts. I dominates. It aches. But God's Grace is Greater and Good. We know about the valleys we have to go through to stand on the mountain of God. I think that is part of what my Grief has been about. That valley is low and long. But that mountain is high and mighty. God's Grace is a Gift of His Goodness through which His Glory is revealed.
As I read back over this writing, only one "negative G theme" is present. But multiple "positive G" themes" are present. God is Good. If you have any doubt, re-read my themes. Whatever your valley, God's Grace and Goodness will bring you out of it to stand with Him on that mountain of Glory.
Only God can make me sing praises while in a valley. Nothing else I have tried has such an effect. Thank you, God, for your Glorious Grace!
Thursday, June 18, 2009
Siblings
Back in February, my little friends, Marlea, 5, and Anna, 14 months, lost their sister, Kira, 3, to a sudden illness. Marlea, the big sister, has been lost without her playmate and Anna, has found herself in a new roll as "the second child." I was priviledged to watch these three girls play together, interact, develop rolls and responsibilities toward each other and to others. They were quite the trio, each seemingly incomplete without the other. Now that Kira is in heaven, the girls do feel incomplete. Are they now 2 sisters or still part of that trio? Do they play differently because Kira is not there or do they keep their ways? Will they act and develop differently toward the world because Kira is not there to learn from?
I know I learned so much from being a little sister with a big brother and it plays (present tense) a huge roll in who I am. While Mike and I no longer "played" together like we did when we were kids, we played off of each other in the rolls we learned growing up together. I hurt for my little friends as they seek to become new people without their sister.
I don't want a new roll in life without my brother. I don't want Marlea and Anna to be without Kira. I liked so much who we all were when we were complete.
Shortly after Mike died, I had a sudden, vivd image of him grabbing up Kira and holding her up high in the air, over his head. The pair were laughing with thier big grins, in total delight of one another. They never had the chance to meet here. They are playing together in heaven.
I don't like them not being here. I am glad they have each other up there.
I don't mind that new roll, so much. I get to share my big brother with that little girl. I hope, someday, the girls left behind, will find comfort in that thought.
I know I learned so much from being a little sister with a big brother and it plays (present tense) a huge roll in who I am. While Mike and I no longer "played" together like we did when we were kids, we played off of each other in the rolls we learned growing up together. I hurt for my little friends as they seek to become new people without their sister.
I don't want a new roll in life without my brother. I don't want Marlea and Anna to be without Kira. I liked so much who we all were when we were complete.
Shortly after Mike died, I had a sudden, vivd image of him grabbing up Kira and holding her up high in the air, over his head. The pair were laughing with thier big grins, in total delight of one another. They never had the chance to meet here. They are playing together in heaven.
I don't like them not being here. I am glad they have each other up there.
I don't mind that new roll, so much. I get to share my big brother with that little girl. I hope, someday, the girls left behind, will find comfort in that thought.
Thursday, June 11, 2009
Reflections
So, after 2 months, I was finally able to view the picture video created to play during Mike's visitation in April. Needless to say, I shed a lot of tears. I have always had a difficult time with photos. Even throughout my wonderful travels, I have been unable and uncommitted to taking numerous pictures. I recently came to the conclusion that pictures do not do memories justice. There is just no way to re-create the real thing on a flat piece of paper.
One day, also recently, I saw my face in the mirror. A new face. A different face. One I have not been familiar with. One with the shadow of my brother. One that can't get passed the nose on the end of my own face long enough to see the blessings I have been missing. I have only seen lost, sad, and hurt.
Dad was born at Duke Hospital in 1945. He was given the name "Baby Ronald" by the staff, as he was put up for adoption. Later, when he was adopted, he was named Michael Ronald Watson.
My brother is Michael Ronald Watson, Jr. My name is Rhonda Michelle Watson Wright. Mike and I were both named for our Dad. As I have seen my reflection in the mirror, not for vanity mind you, I have seen the face of generations, memories and the real thing. I am part of my brother, my family. I am the past, present, and future. I want Mike to be in our present but all I have seen in the mirror is the lack of his presence in my life. My face is sad and downtrodden. I have missed the blessing of how much of a part of my life he really is. He is my brother...my brother! What a bond! He is a God-given gift! I have missed so much of that over the past 2 months simply by not sharing his memories. Don't misread me...these memories are painful because they are not remotely as good as the real thing. But they are what I have. I have part of him.
I see him in Mom, in Dad, in Hunter, and even Laura. They say the longer a couple is together the more alike they look. Maybe it's just that they look so much like the two have become one as God intended. I don't fully understand His plan because now Laura does not have Mike, nor do we. Can you tell I am confused, hurt, broken, searching?
Fortunately, each day brings new answers and reassurance, though one day is not always better than the one before.
It is so complicated yet so simple.
I hope as I look in the mirror, I see God's grace for each day and His blessing to remember and relish in my brother's memory and life. As I look in the mirror each day, I hope to see the pilgrimage, not the pain, though one does not seem possible without the other. I hope I see who I am becoming, not who I was. I want to see Mike. I want to see the face lift given by a spirit-filled life.
Lord, hear me. Help me. Bless all who take the time to read this and reflect on Mike and our family. Bless their own families' and needs. You know their hurts, their praise, their desires. Lord, use these words to help them reflect on you as they look in the mirror. Use Mike's life through us, as a ministry to those that need to hear these words from the real, broken-hearted, loving, questioning, hurt and frustrated Christians. Lord, even if they do not know you, speak to their hearts. This is my prayer. This is the godly reflection I want.
Love,
Rhonda
One day, also recently, I saw my face in the mirror. A new face. A different face. One I have not been familiar with. One with the shadow of my brother. One that can't get passed the nose on the end of my own face long enough to see the blessings I have been missing. I have only seen lost, sad, and hurt.
Dad was born at Duke Hospital in 1945. He was given the name "Baby Ronald" by the staff, as he was put up for adoption. Later, when he was adopted, he was named Michael Ronald Watson.
My brother is Michael Ronald Watson, Jr. My name is Rhonda Michelle Watson Wright. Mike and I were both named for our Dad. As I have seen my reflection in the mirror, not for vanity mind you, I have seen the face of generations, memories and the real thing. I am part of my brother, my family. I am the past, present, and future. I want Mike to be in our present but all I have seen in the mirror is the lack of his presence in my life. My face is sad and downtrodden. I have missed the blessing of how much of a part of my life he really is. He is my brother...my brother! What a bond! He is a God-given gift! I have missed so much of that over the past 2 months simply by not sharing his memories. Don't misread me...these memories are painful because they are not remotely as good as the real thing. But they are what I have. I have part of him.
I see him in Mom, in Dad, in Hunter, and even Laura. They say the longer a couple is together the more alike they look. Maybe it's just that they look so much like the two have become one as God intended. I don't fully understand His plan because now Laura does not have Mike, nor do we. Can you tell I am confused, hurt, broken, searching?
Fortunately, each day brings new answers and reassurance, though one day is not always better than the one before.
It is so complicated yet so simple.
I hope as I look in the mirror, I see God's grace for each day and His blessing to remember and relish in my brother's memory and life. As I look in the mirror each day, I hope to see the pilgrimage, not the pain, though one does not seem possible without the other. I hope I see who I am becoming, not who I was. I want to see Mike. I want to see the face lift given by a spirit-filled life.
Lord, hear me. Help me. Bless all who take the time to read this and reflect on Mike and our family. Bless their own families' and needs. You know their hurts, their praise, their desires. Lord, use these words to help them reflect on you as they look in the mirror. Use Mike's life through us, as a ministry to those that need to hear these words from the real, broken-hearted, loving, questioning, hurt and frustrated Christians. Lord, even if they do not know you, speak to their hearts. This is my prayer. This is the godly reflection I want.
Love,
Rhonda
Saturday, June 6, 2009
There is an episode of M*A*S*H where the psychiatrist, Sydney Freidman, is analyzing the character, Hawkeye. For those of you that know M*A*S*H, you will understand a little more. For those who don't, just bear with me. The psychiatrist says that "anger turned inward is depression. Anger turned sideways, is Hawkeye."
You may have noticed that I have not posted in a while. I finally realized why. June 3 we celebrated Hunter's 11th birthday at his house. Mike was not there. I was angry. There was a turtle that did not make it across the road. I was angry. Thers is another idiot being pain millions of dollars for pouty lips and so-called talent. I am angry. I have to go to work and hold in all my emotions to take care of people, just to have my days off ruined because that is when I have to deal with my emotions. That makes me angry. I am angry. That makes me angrier. Anger is not an easy emotion to express and not hurt someone or something or to come out smelling like a rose.
Mike dealt with a lot during his life. He was passionate about a lot more than most people know. A lot of things angered him. But he was rarely depressed or sad, even when dealing with ongoing illnesses. He was rebellious, rouge, and somewhat of a maverick at times. He turned his anger sideways. I, on the other hand, turn my anger inward. I have allowed no outlet.
If you will recall, a lot of the things Hawkeye did was rebellious against everything the Army tried to make him do. Most of the time his rebellion helped someone or at least taught him a valuable lesson. I am not suggesting that we or I go out and rebel against the world and all its brokenness. But I do think it is ok to go against the grain, sometimes, to keep from going crazy. I think that is also what Jesus obediently did :)
Mike liked to get sideways. He did not like to get angry. He was too busy enjoying life to do that.
I, on the other hand, am angry. I don't like to get sideways because then I think I am not in control. But as I write this, I realize I am not in control...the anger is. It is defining me right now. It is depressing me. Mike would tell me I need to get over myself. Hawkeye would pull a prank or expose some awful truth, even if it had a not-so-happy ending.
I like Hawkeye's character a lot. He is a lot like I would like to be, sometimes. But he is just a character. Mike, on the other hand, IS my brother and always will be. I don't want to be angry and depressed. I want to get a little bit sideways.
You may have noticed that I have not posted in a while. I finally realized why. June 3 we celebrated Hunter's 11th birthday at his house. Mike was not there. I was angry. There was a turtle that did not make it across the road. I was angry. Thers is another idiot being pain millions of dollars for pouty lips and so-called talent. I am angry. I have to go to work and hold in all my emotions to take care of people, just to have my days off ruined because that is when I have to deal with my emotions. That makes me angry. I am angry. That makes me angrier. Anger is not an easy emotion to express and not hurt someone or something or to come out smelling like a rose.
Mike dealt with a lot during his life. He was passionate about a lot more than most people know. A lot of things angered him. But he was rarely depressed or sad, even when dealing with ongoing illnesses. He was rebellious, rouge, and somewhat of a maverick at times. He turned his anger sideways. I, on the other hand, turn my anger inward. I have allowed no outlet.
If you will recall, a lot of the things Hawkeye did was rebellious against everything the Army tried to make him do. Most of the time his rebellion helped someone or at least taught him a valuable lesson. I am not suggesting that we or I go out and rebel against the world and all its brokenness. But I do think it is ok to go against the grain, sometimes, to keep from going crazy. I think that is also what Jesus obediently did :)
Mike liked to get sideways. He did not like to get angry. He was too busy enjoying life to do that.
I, on the other hand, am angry. I don't like to get sideways because then I think I am not in control. But as I write this, I realize I am not in control...the anger is. It is defining me right now. It is depressing me. Mike would tell me I need to get over myself. Hawkeye would pull a prank or expose some awful truth, even if it had a not-so-happy ending.
I like Hawkeye's character a lot. He is a lot like I would like to be, sometimes. But he is just a character. Mike, on the other hand, IS my brother and always will be. I don't want to be angry and depressed. I want to get a little bit sideways.
Wednesday, May 20, 2009
The Roller Coaster that is Mike
As I read over the previous posts, I am not really sure who wrote them. Not because they are so profound and wonderful, but because they are so palpable and visceral.
I have realized that it will take many of us to be "Mike" to each other. I am part of Mike, Mom and Dad are part of Mike, Laura and Hunter are part of Mike and so on. Each one of us holds a very special seat on the roller coaster ride with him. Sometimes we have been up front with him with our hands in the air, and roars of laughter. Other times, we have been way in the back, eyes closed, with a white-knuckle grip on the hand rails holding on for dear life. Yet other times have been bumpy, jerky rides that left us bruised and worn. As I think about this it brings revelation to the fact that this is how we are supposed to be Christ's representative. Not one of us can be Christ but we are all a part of his roller coaster ride. He never promised us an easy ride but collectively we can be the body of Christ on this earth, be there for each other. So everyone reading this has a new assignment in life, you have to continue on the Mike roller coaster ride with us. You have had a seat at some point. Continue to join us whether you want to sit up front with your hands in the air or sit in the back with your eyes closed and screaming. No matter what, it's ok. And you know what else? God wants you on His ride. He needs each one of us some where in one of those seats and puts us where he needs us, provided we climb aboard. Here is your invitation.
Do you think I say these things because I have wisdom or a poetic heart? No. I have a broken heart and broken spirit. Words can hurt and words can heal. I want to heal. I painfully hurt. I hope and pray my words offer healing and that the Holy Spirit speaks to you through them.
Love,
Rhonda
I have realized that it will take many of us to be "Mike" to each other. I am part of Mike, Mom and Dad are part of Mike, Laura and Hunter are part of Mike and so on. Each one of us holds a very special seat on the roller coaster ride with him. Sometimes we have been up front with him with our hands in the air, and roars of laughter. Other times, we have been way in the back, eyes closed, with a white-knuckle grip on the hand rails holding on for dear life. Yet other times have been bumpy, jerky rides that left us bruised and worn. As I think about this it brings revelation to the fact that this is how we are supposed to be Christ's representative. Not one of us can be Christ but we are all a part of his roller coaster ride. He never promised us an easy ride but collectively we can be the body of Christ on this earth, be there for each other. So everyone reading this has a new assignment in life, you have to continue on the Mike roller coaster ride with us. You have had a seat at some point. Continue to join us whether you want to sit up front with your hands in the air or sit in the back with your eyes closed and screaming. No matter what, it's ok. And you know what else? God wants you on His ride. He needs each one of us some where in one of those seats and puts us where he needs us, provided we climb aboard. Here is your invitation.
Do you think I say these things because I have wisdom or a poetic heart? No. I have a broken heart and broken spirit. Words can hurt and words can heal. I want to heal. I painfully hurt. I hope and pray my words offer healing and that the Holy Spirit speaks to you through them.
Love,
Rhonda
Saturday, May 16, 2009
Random thoughts
Real- being or occurring in fact or actuality, having verifiable existence; true and actual, not imaginary, alleged, or ideal.
Reality- the quality or state of being actual or true.
Driving and crying.
Why is that the world does not allow us to be real? Why do we have to be ideal? My reality is the following; I have gained 5 lbs in a month. I do not sleep well. Food has no taste. My body hurts. I do not feel like smiling. I cry like a little girl. I love my family more than ever. My husband is a true gift from God. I am terrified of all of this interfering with my job. If I hold my feelings in then I am not real. I can't always express myself. There is a time and a place. But do people reallly want to hear or know? I don't know. I don't care if they do or not.
My car has become a refuge. It is a place to let my tears go and talk to God. I turn my radio up to drown out my thoughts and reset my brain. It is amazing at how many people are on the road. Is anyone experiencing the same thing? Is anyone else hurting? The brokeness of this world tells me yes. Yet we go on while one person is driving and crying.
I have been careful not to speak for the rest of my family. We are all dealing with this on our own individual terms, yet feeling the same loss. As Grandaddy put it, we are in the huddle. We all have different positions on this team. What are we going to do without Mike? We get our game plan and go out to face the world. I just don't know which side we are on, the winners or the losers. Is it possible to be on both at the same time? Either way, continue saying prayers and cheers for the hometeam. We feel it and need it.
Love to you all,
Rhonda
Reality- the quality or state of being actual or true.
Driving and crying.
Why is that the world does not allow us to be real? Why do we have to be ideal? My reality is the following; I have gained 5 lbs in a month. I do not sleep well. Food has no taste. My body hurts. I do not feel like smiling. I cry like a little girl. I love my family more than ever. My husband is a true gift from God. I am terrified of all of this interfering with my job. If I hold my feelings in then I am not real. I can't always express myself. There is a time and a place. But do people reallly want to hear or know? I don't know. I don't care if they do or not.
My car has become a refuge. It is a place to let my tears go and talk to God. I turn my radio up to drown out my thoughts and reset my brain. It is amazing at how many people are on the road. Is anyone experiencing the same thing? Is anyone else hurting? The brokeness of this world tells me yes. Yet we go on while one person is driving and crying.
I have been careful not to speak for the rest of my family. We are all dealing with this on our own individual terms, yet feeling the same loss. As Grandaddy put it, we are in the huddle. We all have different positions on this team. What are we going to do without Mike? We get our game plan and go out to face the world. I just don't know which side we are on, the winners or the losers. Is it possible to be on both at the same time? Either way, continue saying prayers and cheers for the hometeam. We feel it and need it.
Love to you all,
Rhonda
Sunday, May 10, 2009
Friends
I have so many new close personal friends just waiting to help me. Tears readily stand by and can flow at a dog food commercial. Anger holds my hand and helps me throw something. Sadness smothers me and makes me moan and sigh. Pain does the same thing. Laughter attempts to help me as does my husband telling a joke but they both get slighted by the moan and sigh of sadness and pain. Exhaustion is a prevalent friend accompanied by brief moments of energy that makes me tackle a small pile in the house. Then I am worn out for the rest of the day. Numbness seems to be close friends with exhaustion. I think it tries to protect me from everything else. Hurt reveals itself as the numbness steps away and sadness and pain return. I keep reading that I have to be friends with all of them in order to grieve. I really don’t want to be friends with any of them. How can I embrace grief when I can’t stand its touch?
I believe in the revelation of Jesus’ resurrection, “O death where is thy sting?” We were never meant to feel this sting of death, smell this stink of death, embrace the friends of death. Not until we became a broken world that could only be healed by Jesus’ blood. I can’t wait until the sting, stench, and friends of death are no more. But I have to embrace them to heal. This is where anger rears its head and pain cuts to the core.
I believe in the revelation of Jesus’ resurrection, “O death where is thy sting?” We were never meant to feel this sting of death, smell this stink of death, embrace the friends of death. Not until we became a broken world that could only be healed by Jesus’ blood. I can’t wait until the sting, stench, and friends of death are no more. But I have to embrace them to heal. This is where anger rears its head and pain cuts to the core.
Wednesday, May 6, 2009
Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of mercies and God of all comfort, who comforts us in all our afflictions so that we will be able to comfort those who are in any affliction with the comfort with which we ourselves are comforted by God.
2 Corinthians 1:3-4
I believe God allows us to be selfish during a time of grief so that we really feel and know our loss and really feel and know His love. However, I received an email from a dear cousin about how she has just been putting one foot in front of the other to get through the day, the same way I have been, and it hit me. I think I have said "I'm sorry" to Mom, Dad, and Laura, but I don't know that I have actually said it to the hundreds, if not thousands, that are mourning Mike.
I know no one thinks badly of me or anyone else as selfish in our grief. It is expected and ok to mourn our individual loss. But I know what the out-pouring of love and support has felt like to me. So to all of you reading this, thank you for loving Mike. I KNOW HOW BIG THAT MIKE-SIZE HOLE IS IN YOUR HEART. And I just want to say, I am so very, deeply, heart-felt sorry for YOUR loss.
Please read the above verse, again.
Love,
Rhonda
2 Corinthians 1:3-4
I believe God allows us to be selfish during a time of grief so that we really feel and know our loss and really feel and know His love. However, I received an email from a dear cousin about how she has just been putting one foot in front of the other to get through the day, the same way I have been, and it hit me. I think I have said "I'm sorry" to Mom, Dad, and Laura, but I don't know that I have actually said it to the hundreds, if not thousands, that are mourning Mike.
I know no one thinks badly of me or anyone else as selfish in our grief. It is expected and ok to mourn our individual loss. But I know what the out-pouring of love and support has felt like to me. So to all of you reading this, thank you for loving Mike. I KNOW HOW BIG THAT MIKE-SIZE HOLE IS IN YOUR HEART. And I just want to say, I am so very, deeply, heart-felt sorry for YOUR loss.
Please read the above verse, again.
Love,
Rhonda
Monday, May 4, 2009
Saturday, May 2, 2009
I have been paralyzed by the thought of moving…moving on without him.
Planting a garden means I do so without sharing it with him.
Loving and giving to anyone else without being able to love and give to him. Loving and giving to anyone else means the chance to lose and hurt.
Getting out and having fun, riding a bicycle, hiking, or seeing friends without being able to tell him about it.
Moving on acknowledges that April 10 really happened.
Moving on means grief, pain, and overwhelming emotion.
Moving on to experience all the “firsts” without him in the world.
Moving on past the last time I touched him. I will never feel that again while I am here.
If I am paralyzed why do I feel so much? I feel pain, heartbreak, hurt, sad, anger. Yet at the same time I feel numb. I am not really here. This is not really happening.
If I do not allow myself the chance to feel then I do not move on. If I move on I do it without him. I have been paralyzed.
Grief is one of life's paradoxes'. You have to feel the pain to feel healing. I don't really expect to understand it this side of heaven.
Planting a garden means I do so without sharing it with him.
Loving and giving to anyone else without being able to love and give to him. Loving and giving to anyone else means the chance to lose and hurt.
Getting out and having fun, riding a bicycle, hiking, or seeing friends without being able to tell him about it.
Moving on acknowledges that April 10 really happened.
Moving on means grief, pain, and overwhelming emotion.
Moving on to experience all the “firsts” without him in the world.
Moving on past the last time I touched him. I will never feel that again while I am here.
If I am paralyzed why do I feel so much? I feel pain, heartbreak, hurt, sad, anger. Yet at the same time I feel numb. I am not really here. This is not really happening.
If I do not allow myself the chance to feel then I do not move on. If I move on I do it without him. I have been paralyzed.
Grief is one of life's paradoxes'. You have to feel the pain to feel healing. I don't really expect to understand it this side of heaven.
Wednesday, April 29, 2009
I am not home yet
I have not lost God.
I have lost my brother, my childhood companion, my adulthood confidant.
I have not lost grace.
It is in the midst of grief, mourning, and pain.
I have not lost faith.
I have reassurance in the life-everlasting.
I have not lost hope.
I have prayers never-ceasing.
I have not lost love.
I have family, friends, and puppies.
I am not lost.
I’m just not home yet.
I have not lost God.
He never leaves me. He gives me faith, hope, and love.
I have lost my brother, my childhood companion, my adulthood confidant.
I have not lost grace.
It is in the midst of grief, mourning, and pain.
I have not lost faith.
I have reassurance in the life-everlasting.
I have not lost hope.
I have prayers never-ceasing.
I have not lost love.
I have family, friends, and puppies.
I am not lost.
I’m just not home yet.
I have not lost God.
He never leaves me. He gives me faith, hope, and love.
Tuesday, April 21, 2009
Wake me up
Wake me up to that Sunday dinner before the wreck, Mom's good food, Mike's big grin, fun and laughter.
Wake me up to February 14, 1970, to see the look on Mom and Dad's faces as they gaze at their baby boy.
Wake me up to the day Mike proposed to Laura, to the smiles, tears, and little sister beaming with pride.
Wake me up to June 3, 1998, as big brother Mike becomes a Daddy.
Wake me up to one more moment in the ICU, where I can hold and craddle my big brother just one more time.
Wake me up in Heaven where the hurt, pain, and hole are no more.
Wake me up to today, Lord, to your Word, your Will, to Life.
Without you Lord, do not wake me up tomorrow, for You are what sustains me.
Wake me up to February 14, 1970, to see the look on Mom and Dad's faces as they gaze at their baby boy.
Wake me up to the day Mike proposed to Laura, to the smiles, tears, and little sister beaming with pride.
Wake me up to June 3, 1998, as big brother Mike becomes a Daddy.
Wake me up to one more moment in the ICU, where I can hold and craddle my big brother just one more time.
Wake me up in Heaven where the hurt, pain, and hole are no more.
Wake me up to today, Lord, to your Word, your Will, to Life.
Without you Lord, do not wake me up tomorrow, for You are what sustains me.
Wednesday, April 15, 2009
Thanks for the chicken and dumplings
Among the many wonderful expressions of love is the gift of food. One of our precious family member's brought chicken and dumplings for Easter Sunday lunch. As I have tried to sum up the experience of Monday night's visitation in my head, I keep thinking of chicken and dumplings.
Both sets of our grandmothers (and mother) often made chicken and dumplings. Think about your memories of this food if you are fortunate enough to have grown up with it. Chicken and dumplings is warm, it's nourishing, it's comforting, it makes you tired and sleepy and ready for a Sunday afternoon nap, it is love.
As we all gazed at the numbers of people who so graciously waited to express thier sympathies and mourn with us, I am sure it was pretty obvious that we were overwhelmed and worn.
Yet somehow, after waiting a couple of days to really reflect on it, I was able to come to this conclusion; every single one of you brought us warmth, nourishment, made us tired and sleepy and ready for a nap (we ALL slept well Monday night-much needed), and you brought us LOVE.
On behalf of the Mike Watson, Jr Family...
THANKS FOR THE CHICKEN AND DUMPLINGS
Love,
Rhonda
Both sets of our grandmothers (and mother) often made chicken and dumplings. Think about your memories of this food if you are fortunate enough to have grown up with it. Chicken and dumplings is warm, it's nourishing, it's comforting, it makes you tired and sleepy and ready for a Sunday afternoon nap, it is love.
As we all gazed at the numbers of people who so graciously waited to express thier sympathies and mourn with us, I am sure it was pretty obvious that we were overwhelmed and worn.
Yet somehow, after waiting a couple of days to really reflect on it, I was able to come to this conclusion; every single one of you brought us warmth, nourishment, made us tired and sleepy and ready for a nap (we ALL slept well Monday night-much needed), and you brought us LOVE.
On behalf of the Mike Watson, Jr Family...
THANKS FOR THE CHICKEN AND DUMPLINGS
Love,
Rhonda
Sunday, April 12, 2009
Memorials for Mike Watson Jr
From Mike Watson Sr.
Thank you for your prayers of support and love you have shown us. Hold dear to your loved ones, hug them and keep God in your life. Without Him it is difficult if not impossible to bear the tragedies that life sometimes offers.
In lieu of flowers, we ask that memorials be sent to:
Jonesboro United Methodist Church
407 W. Main Street
Sanford, NC 27330
Thank you for your prayers of support and love you have shown us. Hold dear to your loved ones, hug them and keep God in your life. Without Him it is difficult if not impossible to bear the tragedies that life sometimes offers.
In lieu of flowers, we ask that memorials be sent to:
Jonesboro United Methodist Church
407 W. Main Street
Sanford, NC 27330
Saturday, April 11, 2009
Arrangements for Mike Watson
Thank you for your patience as we plan our "see-ya's," (no good-byes) to Mike.
A visitation will be held at Jonesboro United Methodist Church Wesley Center, Sanford, North Carolina, Monday, April 13 from 6pm-8pm.
Honoring his wishes, Mike will be cremated. There will not be a viewing.
A Memorial Celebration is planned for Sunday, May 3 from 3pm until... at the same location.
Thank you for your prayers and outpouring of love as we grieve our brother, son, father, husband, cousin, grand child, nephew, uncle, friend.
We hope that after some time to mourn the loss, you will find the reasons to celebrate Mike's life as he would want us to. Please bring those celebrations to the Memorial Celebration.
Let Easter Sunday sustain you with reassurance that we have a God who knows what it is like to lose his son. Know that Mike is living in eternity with the Father.
Once again, on behalf of that big Teddy Bear and family,
Rhonda
A visitation will be held at Jonesboro United Methodist Church Wesley Center, Sanford, North Carolina, Monday, April 13 from 6pm-8pm.
Honoring his wishes, Mike will be cremated. There will not be a viewing.
A Memorial Celebration is planned for Sunday, May 3 from 3pm until... at the same location.
Thank you for your prayers and outpouring of love as we grieve our brother, son, father, husband, cousin, grand child, nephew, uncle, friend.
We hope that after some time to mourn the loss, you will find the reasons to celebrate Mike's life as he would want us to. Please bring those celebrations to the Memorial Celebration.
Let Easter Sunday sustain you with reassurance that we have a God who knows what it is like to lose his son. Know that Mike is living in eternity with the Father.
Once again, on behalf of that big Teddy Bear and family,
Rhonda
Friday, April 10, 2009
April 10, 2009
Mike did not change much during the night, however his fever did break and BP continues to stay in a desired range. This morning a blood clot was found in his right leg, the same one that is fractured. Unfortunately not an unexpected development. Treatment is being started for that. He is responded positively to some venilatory changes. We are grateful for that. He desperately needs to improve his ventilation.
You hear so many seemingly hollow statements during times like these..."just pray," "we're holding up," "one day at a time," "moment by moment." Know this, these are not hollow statements. These represent our reality. We look at pieces and parts of Mike's progress and are constantly thankful that he is still here.
Many have asked questions about the wreck and what happened. We honestly do not know the details. The basics are as follows, he ran off the road approximately a half a mile from his house, about 15 feet off the road into trees. His truck caught fire. At this time, until we have more factual details, we will not put out any more information than that. While we need to understand how we got to where we are, we are trying to focus on where we are at now versus exactly how we got here. The injury pattern from the wreck explains enough right now. Please be patient and understanding as we are not focused on that part right now. We understand that the wanting to know is a part of your love and concern for Mike. That is what we are immensley grateful for.
Hunter is with family and friends today. Pray for a fun and child-like day for him.
I am reminded that today is Good Friday. As we head into this Easter weekend, remind yourself of the Lord's sacrafice and difficult walk he had. Remind yourself of the glorious resurrection on Sunday. Life is hard. God is good. Don't get the two confused (words of wisdom from some wise friends).
Love, peace, and humbling thanks,
Rhonda for the Mike Watson Family
You hear so many seemingly hollow statements during times like these..."just pray," "we're holding up," "one day at a time," "moment by moment." Know this, these are not hollow statements. These represent our reality. We look at pieces and parts of Mike's progress and are constantly thankful that he is still here.
Many have asked questions about the wreck and what happened. We honestly do not know the details. The basics are as follows, he ran off the road approximately a half a mile from his house, about 15 feet off the road into trees. His truck caught fire. At this time, until we have more factual details, we will not put out any more information than that. While we need to understand how we got to where we are, we are trying to focus on where we are at now versus exactly how we got here. The injury pattern from the wreck explains enough right now. Please be patient and understanding as we are not focused on that part right now. We understand that the wanting to know is a part of your love and concern for Mike. That is what we are immensley grateful for.
Hunter is with family and friends today. Pray for a fun and child-like day for him.
I am reminded that today is Good Friday. As we head into this Easter weekend, remind yourself of the Lord's sacrafice and difficult walk he had. Remind yourself of the glorious resurrection on Sunday. Life is hard. God is good. Don't get the two confused (words of wisdom from some wise friends).
Love, peace, and humbling thanks,
Rhonda for the Mike Watson Family
Thursday, April 9, 2009
From Laura - 5:00pm, April 9, 2009
Sooo, I just went in to talk to Mike (he's still being quiet in these conversations), and I got some great updates. Right now, his BP, temp, O2 levels and kidney function are within normal ranges. His CO2 has come down 20 points or so, and is nearly normal. Halleluia!! God is so good!
While I was in there, I also dug around amongst the CT scan records and found out that he only has one facial fracture - the right side of his nose, the nasal bone. His jaw is dislocated, but apparently not broken.
While Hunter was here, he was able to go in an see Mike. This is the first time he has seen Mike. Although he was upset, he was amazingly strong. I cried the first time I saw him, too.
Thank you for all of the prayers. I am totally humbled by the outpouring of love.
While I was in there, I also dug around amongst the CT scan records and found out that he only has one facial fracture - the right side of his nose, the nasal bone. His jaw is dislocated, but apparently not broken.
While Hunter was here, he was able to go in an see Mike. This is the first time he has seen Mike. Although he was upset, he was amazingly strong. I cried the first time I saw him, too.
Thank you for all of the prayers. I am totally humbled by the outpouring of love.
Post surgery
First of all, Mike is still with us. Surgery findings were minimal but beneficial. He had large amounts of brusing from this trauma and scar tissue from his previous trauma. The surgeon put in a chest tube for an air leak and left his abdomen open to allow pressure release. While he is not remotely out of the woods, simply relieving pressure in his abdominal cavity will allow better lung expansion. It also allowed his kidneys to start working better. These are seemingly small improvements but will also allow his blood pressure and perfusion to improve.
I cannot help but emphasize Mike is still here. For all rights and purposes he should not be.
Hunter has come to the hospital today. The first time since Monday. He is being a stoic boy. I love to look at that face and see my brother's grin.
I don't know if you are all familiar with the roller coaster that is Mike. This is part of a day in the life in Mike. Never a dull moment and always keeps us guessing.
We are thankful we are still on that ride.
The Mike Watson Family
I cannot help but emphasize Mike is still here. For all rights and purposes he should not be.
Hunter has come to the hospital today. The first time since Monday. He is being a stoic boy. I love to look at that face and see my brother's grin.
I don't know if you are all familiar with the roller coaster that is Mike. This is part of a day in the life in Mike. Never a dull moment and always keeps us guessing.
We are thankful we are still on that ride.
The Mike Watson Family
AM update
The decision has been made to do exploratory surgery due to Mike's deterioration. He is not stable enough for surgery but he is not stable enough to continue down the treatment program thus far. There is a good chance he won't survive the surgery. I can give you every reason why Mike should not be here or make it but if we don't have hope we have nothing.
I can look at every piece and part that is broken and every diagnostic tool and it's treatment purpose. All of it is ominous. But I look at my big brother and can do nothing but turn to the Lord for healing whether it is here or with Him. I can give you every medical reason Mike should not be here but my God is bigger than that.
We continue to feel your embrace. Hug us tighter and pray harder. We need it in this hour.
Rhonda
I can look at every piece and part that is broken and every diagnostic tool and it's treatment purpose. All of it is ominous. But I look at my big brother and can do nothing but turn to the Lord for healing whether it is here or with Him. I can give you every medical reason Mike should not be here but my God is bigger than that.
We continue to feel your embrace. Hug us tighter and pray harder. We need it in this hour.
Rhonda
April 9, 2009
Mike had a rough night. He developed a high fever and his morning chest x-ray shows a "whiteout." They are having increasing difficulty ventilating him and are using very aggressive venilatory therapies. Mike had been moving the excess fluid out of is body very well (peeing a lot) but that decreased throughout the night. I could give you all the medical reasons this is happening but to sum it all up he remains very critical and unstable. The orthopedist and burn team have wanted to fix his leg and wrist fractures and debried his wounds but he is not stable enough to go to the OR for that.
All of us wish we could individually thank and hug each and every one of you out there for all the prayers, calls, and support. Know this, we all feel it immensley as none of us could handle it without you and the loving arms of Jesus. We feel the embrace.
There are many stages to the coping process. Frankly, we are all still in shock. While nothing Mike gets into surprises a lot of us, (yes, you can laugh) this is unreal, even surreal at this point. But it is real as we look at him lying in this bed with tubes and lines coming out of his broken body.
We will continue to hold vigil at the UNC ICU waiting room.
If you listen to Christian music, Casting Crowns "Praise you in this storm" is resounding in my head.
On behalf of the whole Mike Watson family, peace and love,
Rhonda
All of us wish we could individually thank and hug each and every one of you out there for all the prayers, calls, and support. Know this, we all feel it immensley as none of us could handle it without you and the loving arms of Jesus. We feel the embrace.
There are many stages to the coping process. Frankly, we are all still in shock. While nothing Mike gets into surprises a lot of us, (yes, you can laugh) this is unreal, even surreal at this point. But it is real as we look at him lying in this bed with tubes and lines coming out of his broken body.
We will continue to hold vigil at the UNC ICU waiting room.
If you listen to Christian music, Casting Crowns "Praise you in this storm" is resounding in my head.
On behalf of the whole Mike Watson family, peace and love,
Rhonda
Wednesday, April 8, 2009
Michaels mailing address at UNC
The address is:
Michael Watson Jr.
SICU Bed 1
The University of North Carolina Hospitals
101 Manning Drive
Chapel Hill, NC 27514
Michael Watson Jr.
SICU Bed 1
The University of North Carolina Hospitals
101 Manning Drive
Chapel Hill, NC 27514
From Laura 4/8/09
Whew! Well, folks, the Watson roller coaster is going again. Thank you, thank you, thank you to everyone who has called, prayed, asked, loved , and kept the faith.
We thank God for our neighbors Ronnie Johnson and Gwyn (sorry I don't know her last name!). Gwyn was first on the scene and called 911. My heart goes out to her for the trauma I know she endured. Ronnie called to check on Mike after the wreck - without that call we do not know how long it would have been before we were notified.
I have to give a big shout out to whatever angel of the Lord cleaned our house. First of all, you are a brave soul. Secondly, you have done me especially a huge favor.
Thank you to Marsha and Travis for looking out for our herd of doggetts.
Thank you Rhonda for interpreting the jargon and setting up this site.
Thank you so very much to Julia and Robert who have opened their home to Hunter and are entertaining him very well.
Lee Christian and Lee Senior have been very understanding.
We love you all and know your prayers are with us. Keep praying.
Laura
We thank God for our neighbors Ronnie Johnson and Gwyn (sorry I don't know her last name!). Gwyn was first on the scene and called 911. My heart goes out to her for the trauma I know she endured. Ronnie called to check on Mike after the wreck - without that call we do not know how long it would have been before we were notified.
I have to give a big shout out to whatever angel of the Lord cleaned our house. First of all, you are a brave soul. Secondly, you have done me especially a huge favor.
Thank you to Marsha and Travis for looking out for our herd of doggetts.
Thank you Rhonda for interpreting the jargon and setting up this site.
Thank you so very much to Julia and Robert who have opened their home to Hunter and are entertaining him very well.
Lee Christian and Lee Senior have been very understanding.
We love you all and know your prayers are with us. Keep praying.
Laura
Here we are
This is Rhonda, Mike's sister doing the blog. Some of the terms and words I will use will be very specific and medical and seem a bit distant. Bear with me as I use that as my own coping mechanism. This is day 3 after Mike's wreck on 4/6/09. The details of the wreck vary so I will provide basic details. Mike's truck ran off the road down a 15 foot drop off into trees and caught fire. He was life flighted to UNC. The extent of injuries are as follows- fractures of cervial spine 5-7, thoracic spine 1&2, multiple rib fractures, sternum, manubrium, jaw, R ankle and L wrist. He is on a ventilator and having difficulty with his lungs and elasticity of his lungs. He is in the process of developing pneumonia. He is fully chemically sedated and paralyzed. He remains in critical condition and not really stable. All that said, we all know Mike is a strong, stubborn fighter. This is the beginning of a very long road for all of us.
I ask specifically for prayers for Hunter, his son. He is an amazing child and needs the "village" to help in his coping. Laura is a rock and has been down this road with Mike before. Pray for continued strength and patience. Pray for mom and dad. Mike may be 39 but he is their child. Pray for the neighbors that found Mike and called 911.
Pray that my bull-headed brother remains as stubborn about living as he is about everything else.
He is at UNC SICU. Please do not call the SICU. Please ask to be directed to the ICU waiting room or call one of us.
I ask specifically for prayers for Hunter, his son. He is an amazing child and needs the "village" to help in his coping. Laura is a rock and has been down this road with Mike before. Pray for continued strength and patience. Pray for mom and dad. Mike may be 39 but he is their child. Pray for the neighbors that found Mike and called 911.
Pray that my bull-headed brother remains as stubborn about living as he is about everything else.
He is at UNC SICU. Please do not call the SICU. Please ask to be directed to the ICU waiting room or call one of us.
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