Sunday, is it Easter?

I am so tired I can't even be poetic this morning. It is morning, right? It is hard to distinguish morning from any other time of the day except by the amount of light streaming through the windows. My internal clock is so off. Last night I ate McDonald's sometime around, heck I don't know...and then my girlfriends brought me Whataburger around, heck I don't know. I didn't eat much of either. Right now I'm having breakfast: coffee, a strawberry and a pineapple flower from the edible fruit basket someone sent. Thanks for breakfast.





I am eating, I swear. So many people are asking me that. I don't know why, I am not the one that hasn't eaten since Tuesday but I know they are concerned. Thanks for that, too.





I'll be honest and tell you all that I am coming off a Nyquil buzz and the screen is swaying back and forth a little, but not as bad as that ambulance ride. I'm just sayin'.





Last night was a good night. After the visitors and family left Nick and I were alone with our sweet girl. She was tucked sweetly under the Tinker Bell blanket with a puppy pillow pet to her right and a brown velveteen bunny to her left. She is a seasoned veteran at dealing with the remaining tubes and cords. She pulls the canula out of her nose every now and then, swipes her palm across it a few times to scratch those inside places, and then secures the tube to it's proper position. If I try to help her she says, "I can do it!" She is a fighter.





She receives therapy every four hours in the form of a velcro strap around her chest that inflates with air and vibrates. This helps loosed the ickies in her lungs and then she coughs hard a few times, coughs that come all the way from her Cajun Shrimp toenails to her Burt's beeswaxed lips. Her heavy blue eyes will then look at me with some sort of request which I promptly answer before she leans back into her pillows to fight her fight. She is a fighter.





Two of my bestest home girls stayed up with me last night. They came armed with pillows, magazines, home made cookies and home town gossip. The perfect combination to distract my weary heart and help me keep vigil through the midnight hours. Within 20 minutes of their arrival I had my head on one end of the couch with a loving hand patting my back and stroking my hair, and my bone tired legs and feet were in another lap receiving a gentle massage. I wish I could say that I loved it. I did love it. But sleep didn't come. It was a modified form of rest. The outer layer of me was able to remain horizontal for a while but my insides still perked up with each beep from the machines or labored breath from my girl. Thank you for that. That is the stuff great novels are written about. That is Ya-ya's by definition. At one point my friend said, "I'll be Weezah. You can hit me!" That made my heart, and my face, smile with a much needed bit of happiness with a dash of gratitude.





They left in the wee hours of morning and I actually did fall asleep on that couch. I woke when the x-ray tech came in to do his job. I think I feel back asleep, not sure. I did come to around 6:15am, stumble down the hall to send Nick to releive me, took a shot of Nyquil and slept until 10am. That is the longest, bestest sleep I've has since...I don't know. I can't remember. The idea of sleeping at home in my own bed with crisp clean sheets is comparable to winning the lottery or some fantastic vacation to the Greek islands. It sounds that good. But it won't be good unless she is there with me, so I'll wait here thank you very much.





I awoke to another sweet face belonging to one of my childhood friends. Me and this girl have been through it all: tears, wins, losses, weddings, kids, youth group...you name it. My second baby girl shares her middle name. If you know me you know this girl. She peeped her head around the door, smiled at me, then did exactly what I wanted her to do. She curled up beside me in the bed and we cried together, arms intermingled like a barrel of monkeys that you can't seem to get apart. I shared my fears with her and she listened with thoses ears of hers that take things in and don't pass judgement. Just listen. And love.

I went down the hallway to sit with Harper, but Gene, our amazing nurse who came back on duty at 7, told me that they were both asleep and wouldn't let me come in. I love you, Gene.

So here I am, typing it all down so that I can look back in a few days, weeks, whatever...and remember. I don't know if I'll want to remember but I want her to know that she is loved by so many.

It is Easter so, Happy Easter. Part of me wants to say, "Happy bleepin' Easter," but that might be sacreligious or something. That is the sarcastic, defensive side of me that is just trying to get through this blur of days. Scurrying mama mouse. I hope that anyone who reads this will take a minute today to really and truly be grateful. Be grateful that you are where you are reading this instead of in a hospital waiting room typing this. Be grateful for the people around you, even if you are arguing or whatever...you are there and they are with you. That is a lot. I am grateful! As tired as I am and as delusion as this post may sound...I am grateful. God is good. Harper is here with us, breathing her tired puppy breaths and fighting her fight. Not many people know that I think of book ideas in my head all the time. At one point I have considered writing a book entitled "Backbone" with stories about the strong women in my life that have made a difference on the woman I am today. Those stories would include my grandmother who managed the farm and three kids after her husband died, another grandmother who looked after her dead son's wife and children with amazing love and care, my mother who picked up the pieces of her own life after my dad died...three little girls and 600 acres, my high school coach who helped me build my faith along with Gloria Gaddis and Jan Gregston who stepped in to minister to a group of high school girls, friends along the way with faith that moves mountains.... now I will have to write about my daughter. My fighter! My firecracker!

She will come home with us and when she does, on that day, we will hunt eggs and eat candy. But today, on Easter, we are grateful. I truly mean this...Happy Easter.