Monday, June 17, 2013

Delta Water

Greenville, Mississippi is a unique place.  It's where I grew up.  A place I left; a place I escaped.  There's no where on earth you will see plants grow faster or greener, or eat better food, or see a greater separation of classes.  It's rich and poor at opposite ends of the spectrum.  But as I went back this past weekend, the one thing that stuck with me was the water. 

Greenville has brown water.  They say it's from cypress swamps it passes through in the aquifer.  Also, it is the softest water.  Soap lathers like no other and it seems there is nothing you can do to get it off.  Being away, you forget these things.  And yet, in coming home, you remember them as clear as yesterday. 

I went back for my Mema's funeral.  A day I thought was years away.  My grandmother was a healthy 81 years old.  She did more than a lot of my friends.  And I guess when your parents or grandparents get older you just think they will deteriorate until a point and then they will just pass away.  And you'll have time to prepare.  Time to say your goodbyes. 

I didn't get a goodbye. 

She had made a trip to see my aunt, Linda, for a couple of weeks.  She had been there when Allyn had her surgery.  Ben had spoken to her after the procedure because she wanted to check on her and thought I would just say everything was fine.  We had planned on her making a trip up to see us sometime this summer.  I called her the following weekend and didn't get an answer.  I decided I would just call her when she got back to Greenville.  She never made it home.  Last weekend she started feeling ill.  She came down with something suddenly, got really sick and then got an infection that ultimately shut down all of her organs.  Her passing was quick, and I hope without too much pain. 

We buried her on Saturday.  I was sad, but ultimately also at peace.  Mema had an amazing life.  Her presence was positive and calming.  And she was a caretaker.  So God's plan for her was the best.  She never had to have someone care for her and she never was forced to stop doing the things she loved.  She LIVED up until almost the very last moment that she didn't.  And for that I am grateful. 

Sunday, June 9, 2013

Because she's the cutest little thing

that you ever did see.

If you know, it's been a busy month (well, 6 weeks) at the Scarbrough house.  We went to the beach, Nolan wrapped his first year of preschool and last week we took Allyn to Chicago for her first casting.  I'll elaborate more on how we are adjusting to the whole thing later.  But we are all good.  Great even.  So, onto the casting.

We arrived in Chicago last Monday. We drove to Tulsa for our flight because flights out of XNA are ridiculous.  Nolan stayed in town with Mimi (and later told me when we got home that he likes Mimi more than me).  We ate yummy food because finding yummy food in Chicago is super easy.  And then that night Allyn got her last bath.

 We got up early Tuesday morning and headed to Chicago Shriner's hospital.  We were the first casting of the morning.  We had to be at the hospital at 6 am.  And Allyn got to last eat around 2:30 am.  She was a little cranky. 
 We went through all of the pre-op questions and then went to the pre-op holding room where she was put in this t-shirt.  She is so tiny the small swallowed her up.  But the extra small wouldn't fit over the melon, so we just had to deal with the extra fabric on the small.  From this room the anethesiologist carried her back to surgery.  She cried when they took her away, but she cries any time I leave her anywhere...and sometimes when Ben takes her out of my arms.  She loves her mama.  I guess they finally took her into "surgery" around 8:30. 
 They put her in her cast, gave her clear liquids (I think.  Girl has also never successfully taken a bottle or sippy cup), trimmed her cast up and brought her back just before 11 am.  She was HUNGRY.  And to say I was ready for her to eat was an understatement. 
 Sweet thing nursed for at least 45 minutes.  I'm sure a lot of that had to to with the fact she was thrilled to be back in my arms.  When she was done, our nurse Gwen was trying oh so gingerly to get the iv out of her arm.  Sweet thing just ripped it out.  She's a tough one.  And here's my little pickle in all of her cast glory.  And she really is the cutest little thing that I ever laid my eyes on.