Sunday, Aug. 15, 2010

Nearby family a blessing

Earlier this summer, I found myself standing in my living room holding my cell phone and trying to stay calm. My husband had just fallen 12 feet from a ladder through a ceramic table and now had a visibly broken arm. Because I knew we would be in the ER until the wee hours of the morning, I needed to find somewhere for my kids to spend the night. I found myself looking around for a "real grownup" to tell me what to do and then had a sinking realization that I was actually the responsible adult.

My fingers instinctively dialed my mother-in-law's phone number. I felt no guilt or worry as I buckled the kids into her car outside the hospital 30 minutes later.

She didn't blink an eye when I told her that the kids hadn't eaten dinner because my husband had been grilling the chicken when he decided to make the fateful climb up the ladder to clean the gutters.

She laughed as I told her that I had given Laurel the task of packing clothes for both her brother and her and that I hadn't checked to make sure that there were actual clothes in there or just stuffed animals and Laurel's purple flowered bathing suit.

She assured me that they would be fine and hugged me before she drove away.

As I walked back into the hospital, I was very thankful that we lived near family.