Monday, December 31, 2007

Christmas Day :)

I was awaken at 9:30a.m. by a jingling above my head. And then something attacked my feet.
"Wake up! Wake up! We can open stockings!"
Snuggling down into my comforter...I tried to ignore the chipper voices. Again my feet were attack and the little jinglebell above my head kept ringing...
"Come on, wake up! Let's open stockings!"

Now for those of you that have younger siblings, this might not sound all that unusual. But I happen to be the youngest in my family...my wake up call came from my parents.
In attempts to sound grumpy, I requested my digital camera, so that I could document this unusual turn of events.
"Isn't it usually the other way around?' I asked my parents. 'I mean shouldn't the kids be the ones to awaken you?" But I suppose times have changed, now I prefer to sleep in, while my parents still get up at the crack of dawn. Which is why THEY had to wake ME up on Christmas morning.


For those of you who have listened to Garrison Keillor, know that he is rather funny. Now I was given a CD with four of our favorite episodes on it. One of them is about the "In and Out Cat," we were listening to it at breakfast and Jake couldn't figure out where the meows were coming from, he was so cute and confused. We decided to replay that particular track, only Jake didn't react as much as he did the first time.


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After we got ready for our day, it was time to open presents. Oddly enough most of the presents under the tree were for me. I had asked for art supplies for Christmas...so I got canvases and an easel...I mean only art majors can be excited about gifts like that.. :)

For Christmas, I had made my dad a hat and my mom a scarf. I think that they look quite cute :)














Then I sent my dad on a treasure hunt, shall we see what else he got for Christmas? The video won't load, since it is rather long (15 minutes), but at least you can see a picture of his gift.












We spent Christmas afternoon at my Aunt Carroll's house, I got to meet my cousin Fiona's boyfriend Travis. I was pulled in several different directions as I tried to help out in the kitchen, keep an eye on the little ones, and talk with Fiona and Travis. I was even able to talk to Felicia, so it was a good time had by all. :)

Saturday, December 29, 2007

Can you see it now?


For those of you who do not have perfect eye site, eye appointments can get rather tedious. My mom asked me when I got home if I needed to get my eyes checked, I didn’t think that I did, but figured that is wouldn’t hurt anything if I did.

I have never really enjoyed eye appointment, I hate it when they check the pressure in your eyes by sending a little puff of air into your eye, something that surprises you, but doesn’t hurt. I decided, a week ago Friday, that I really dislike, rather I HATE reading the letters off that stupid chart. My eye site is a lot better than anyone in my family or many of my friends who have glasses or contacts…but I still can’t tell what the forth line says on that dumb chart. So after checking what I could see without my glasses and then what I could see with my glasses…the cheerful tech left and the doctor came in about 30 minutes later.

This is the part that I dislike the most, reason? Well I can never make up my mind on which setting looks clearer. They have you look through this weird looking contraption that has a bunch of lenses on it, knobs, and levers. They change the different settings in hopes to find a lens that makes things so much clearer. The hated conversation goes a bit like this.

Doctor: Now tell me which line you can read.
Me: Well, the 4th line is rather fuzzy, but I can read the 3rd line fine.
Doctor: Now look at the last two letters of the 4th line, which is clearer to read, this one…or…this one?
Me: Ummmm…(pausing long enough to have her switch it back to the first one while wondering what exactly the last two letters in the 4th line really are)

The problem came when she switched to my left eye. It wouldn’t focus on any of the letters…I could tell what the letters were, but they were definitely not clear.
I am pretty sure that we went through every single lens and setting on that contraption, to come up with the realization that I needed new glasses. Most of you are probably wondering why I need glasses, since you don’t ever see me wearing them. I don’t need glasses when working on art projects or doing homework or working about the house. But I can’t read things that are far away…so objects like street signs, speed limit signs, black boards, power point presentations, the people up front in church…yeah all those things are rather fuzzy. I use my glasses for driving and in large lecture classes.

After a good 20 minutes or so I was allowed to go and pick out new frames for my new prescription. Some of you are probably wondering why I don't just get contacts, are you kidding? Sticking my figure that close to my eye in order to place something in my eye? Not happening. I can see just fine...just don't ask me to read a street sign or something like that...cause I won't have a clue as to what it says...Now just ask any of my housemates, I am horrible at deciding. So the process took awhile, I hate frames that are too wide, too skinny, too round. I like them to be somewhat fashionable, but I didn’t want them to be the same pair that I currently have…I mean how I would be able to tell them apart? I didn’t even notice that my prescription had changed!

Sunday, December 23, 2007

Becky

"Grandma," was Becky's nickname. She was 24 and the second oldest out of the student missionaries on Pohnpei. But just because she was older then most of the other SMs, didn't mean that she always acted that way. Becky was also my roommate...








This flattering picture is of Becky, she decided that the time had come to scare all the innocent trick-o-treaters that were coming to the campus. So she and Raz went into hiding, and would jump out randomly to scare unsuspecting children.







Becky was big into surfing, she bought a surf board while in Hawaii on our way over. She went surfing twice in Pohnpei, the first time she met the coral, and I got to clean the cuts out on her feet and knee with bleach. The second time a current sucked her out to sea. She had made a deal with God, if he got her back to the island, she would NEVER surf again. And she kept her word...much to the disappointment of the guys. If she went out in the boat, she was generally WATCHING the guys surf...






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Camping trips were always fun, Becky and I shared a "tent" which was usually a tarp covering that stretched across our two hammocks. We would always go exploring on which ever small island we found ourselves on. We always had a great time...we never brought food that had to be cooked, since it ALWAYS rained, we would bring muffins, bread, cookies, crackers, canned fruit, rice cooked the morning of (wrapped in tin foil to keep it warm)...just anything that didn't require cooking, since we knew that it would most likely rain. This picture was taken at our first camping trip to Ant Atoll...or second and LAST camping trip was very exciting.


A strom is coming, and I am explaining to my future viewing audiences that the main island of Pohnpei has disappeared. Becky joins in and tells me of a shocking discovery.


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Maybe we had just a little too much time on our hands, either that or we were having too much fun with digital cameras.


Like I said before, Becky and I did a lot of exploring. We are currently on a 6 waterfall hike, which took us 5 hours to complete. We ended up feeling rather lost as we waded through rivers, streams, and a lot of mud. The jungle has a way of confusing people...we had already gotten lost on a different hike a few weeks before...and were very happy to have a guide and Mr. B helping us along. This would have been the first of the six waterfalls.



Now I really really dislike heights, I avoid them when I can...which is why I am standing at the top of this waterfall. Now Becky and I made a deal, if she would video with her camera, I would jump off the waterfall...so with that in mind, here is the video of me jumping off a waterfall simply because it was THERE.


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While in Hawaii on our trip back to the states, Becky and I decided that we couldn't leave until we climbed Diamond Head Crater. I mean we could see it from our hotel window...why not climb it? We charged ahead with flip flops on our feet, cruzing by over weight people teenagers who thought that they would run up the crater (I don't think that they got very far). But we made it and at the top had a nice guy take a picture of us.


And since both Becky and I have a wonderful sense of direction, while in Hawaii the 3 of us, Marla (Housemate #3), Becky and I decided to go through the world's largest maze. We did end up getting lost...but had a lot of fun in the process.


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Becky is really one of a kind...quite a crazy girl...although I did hear that she is more herself in LA. Pohnpei was rather hard on her, she was ready to leave the moment that she got there...but she stuck it out. I hope that she had some fun, cause we certainly had a lot of fun hanging out with her.

Christmas in Pohnpei

"Emily you aren't in Pohnpei," I can hear someone say...very true I'm not, but I thought that it would be fun to REMEMBER my Christmas in Pohnpei.

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Some people wouldn't think that it would be that hard to get 36 little first graders to stand still and sing a song. If you are one of those people, were you ever a kid? Do you remember how hard it was to stand still for longer then 30 seconds and not swing about or make faces at the people in the crowd? After two months of practicing, this was the final outcome of "We Three Kings."


Christmas Parties are also fun. Small children wired on sugar running about the classroom, excited about food, excited about gifts, just excited in general.





Then came Christmas with the SMs, half of the SMs left for other islands in Micronesia, Hawaii or home. Those of us that were left, tried to have an enjoyable Christmas, one that was liek what we would have in the states. YOU must decorate, make sugar cookies and have fun with friends. We were successful in all these areas.
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Christmas Eve in our apartment. Jay (currently hanging christmas balls from the ceiling) and Mitch (Helping Marla bake cookies) were visiting from the island of Kosrae.


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Waterfall jumping was the thing to do on Saturday afternoons...sorry that the video is sideways. We took the visitors to Twin Falls, Mr. B sat up on top of the falls and helped those of us who climbed up the slippery rock face. I really don't know how he is so calm about all the stupid stuff that SMs do...he is quite amazing.

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SKYPE, the friend and enemy of the SMs in Pohnpei. Sometimes the internet worked and sometimes it didn't...This is how I talked to my parents while I was in Pohnpei, it is also how they were able to interact with me as I opened my Christmas Stocking. :)

And this has been me, thinking about Pohnpei..."sigh" I can't wait to go back.

Slivered Almonds

“Christmas grocery shopping was a lot different in Pohnpei.” I muttered under my breath as I stood in line at Weis. My mom had sent me to the grocery store, and by the time I got to the check out my patience, the small amount that I had left, were about to snap. I had just spent the last hour and a half going through each isle several times trying to find random things on the list. The cart which handled rather well BEFORE I picked up the 40 pound bag of cat litter, served recklessly, threatening to hit every food display in site. All I had left on my list was slivered almonds, you would think that would be easy to find, but it wasn’t. I called my dad and asked him where he found them the last time, he told me…but they weren’t there. I asked a lady in the produce isle and she showed me to the sliced almonds. I didn’t want sliced almonds, I wanted slivered almonds. Then I asked another lady who looked like she might know more then the first. “Oh she said,” pointing to the sliced almonds. “Those must be it.” By this time I wanted to scream, “No.’ I calmly stated. “Those are not them, I wanted slivered, not sliced.” Shrugging her shoulders, she simply said, “Well then look in isle 8.” I had already been in isle 8 and didn’t see any. I called my dad, yet again and he suggested that I go to the customer service desk and ask someone there. They were bound to know more. At the customer service desk, I found a lady who looked like she didn’t know anything about slivered or sliced almonds, but I took a chance.
“Excuse me,’ I asked, trying to sound un-irritated. ‘Might you know where slivered almonds are?” I have noted in past experiences at Weis’ that most of the people there aren’t that intelligent, or if they are, they hide it extremely well. The lady informed me in a somewhat harsh manner that they were over there in isle 8. Calmly I told her that I didn’t see them, coming out from the counter she rummaged through the other almonds and nuts, only to discover that I was correct and the slivered almonds weren’t there.
After checking out, I headed to Giant Eagle, where I found slivered almonds. I felt victorious. I elbowed my way through the crowded supermarket to the checkout, and once free of the store made a mad dash to the safety of my car.

Saturday, December 22, 2007

Granddaddy

There are some of you who might be very tired of hearing about Pobs (granddaddy). if you are tired of it, then don't trouble yourselves to read about him.

Pobs helped me love art, he was always there coaching from the side lines. And when he died so did my desire to be an art major. I wanted to give it up, never to touch another pencil or painbrush again. But I knew deep down inside that granddaddy would never have wanted me to give up my art simply because he wasn't around to see it or to have "art talk" during our visits.
This semester was very tough, there was change with being back in school, change in the aftermath of my dad's accident, and unbearible change when granddaddy died. Inside part of me died too. Everyday I was constantly reminded of granddaddy, whether it was spanish class or art class, I was remined of him. It got overwhelming, so I just stopped. I didn't touch my drawing assignment for a good 2 weeks, I didn't care about my inclass painting assignment, I stopped painting outside of class...It wasn't until InTents at southern when I finally let myself think about it and most importantly give it to God.

I still cry when I think about him, I still have a hard time when working on some art projects or when I am trying to find a good deal on canvas or paint brushes.. but I am trying hard to do my best in school, trying to become better at all the areas in art that he was so good at (and the areas that he was good at are the ones which drive me crazy, I have never really liked still lifes or farm senes...I always liked the ones he painted, but please don't make me do them!) But when I finally let myself, I did learn a lot in my painting class, everyday when I would walk into my appartment after class, Kristin would want to see what I had done, then she would show it off to anyone and everyone who came into our apartment...she was so cute.

I always loved Granddaddy's cartoons, when he came up with a good idea he would draw on whatever he had on hand, including a napkin. This is one area in which I know that I will never be able to do well in, every cartoon he ever drew was funny, and there are a lot of them...I found

some the other day when I was looking through some things in his study. Of course I started crying, but I was also laughing, with every comic that I found I would say to myself "typical granddaddy." This comic is one of the last ones that he drew, I found it rather funny.

This is a video that Felicia took last year, it was the only recent video that I could find of granddaddy...it does go on for a little bit, with different people coming in and out...but it is the beginning that reminds me so much of granddaddy's character...Felicia in true Ford fashion shoves the camera in granddaddy's face and declared "Say something AMAZING!"
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Life Sketch

The funeral was Tuesday, September 18, 2007.

Like many in his generation, Ted was shaped by the Great Depression and World War II.

The youngest of 4 children, he was born in the winter of 1927 into hard life in the Deep South that was about to get much harder. His parents named him Sanford (after his grandfather Sanford Valentine Ford) and Theodore (after Theodore Roosevelt). Before his second birthday, the stock market crash started the nation into a steep slide into the Great Depression.

The Depression tore families apart – across the country, working class parents and children parted to make their own way – and at the time, no one knew whether it would ever end. One of the advantages of being poor before the Depression was that, while things got worse during the Depression, the changes were not as dramatic.

Ted’s father, Thomas Jefferson Ford, was a teacher with wide interests. He worked hard and steadily to provide for his family, at one point walking 13 miles to and from a teaching job. He was proud and independent – he did not believe in taking “handouts” from the government and avoided the many relief programs under the New Deal. From his father, Ted learned relentless dedication to supporting one’s family and a determination to be self-sufficient.

His father was instrumental in another way – during the Depression, he pointed out to Ted that pharmacists were always in demand and could make a living even in the worst of times. That stuck with him.

Despite the hardship of the Depression, it was, at least, a peaceful time. People adjusted to hardship and life gradually improved. Ted grew up with friends and family – he like to experiment with mechanical gadgets, and to camp out with his friends on the sand bars of the Leaf River. He developed an interest in music, taught himself to play the guitar, and became a talented musician. He began drawing and painting, an interest that he would pursue for the rest of his life. But it was clear to anyone who followed the news (as Ted did) that turmoil in the world was getting worse. Ted remembered hearing the radio broadcast of the attack on Pearl Harbor – he was a month shy of his 15th birthday.

World War II was unlike anything the world had seen before or has seen since – it was global war. The news was filled with battles, and though accounts at the time did not dwell on casualties, the underlying story was of horrific death. Sixteen million Americans served in the military during the war, and over a million were killed or wounded. Ted followed the news of the war and knew it would come for him. He decided to go to it. He attempted to enlist in the Navy but was rejected because he was colorblind.
In January 1945, shortly after his 18th birthday, he enlisted in the Army.

The war in Europe was approaching an end, but the war against Japan was continuing and no end appeared in sight. It appeared likely that the Japanese would fight to the death, forcing a bloody invasion of the Japanese islands. Ted trained for combat and likely would have been in that invasion force. But as he was shipping out to the Pacific theater, the American forces dropped the first atomic bomb, and the war soon came to an end. Instead of going to war, Ted was sent to Japan to serve in the occupying forces.

For over a year, Ted served with the Military Police in Tokyo. He did not police the Japanese, but rather the American soldiers who occupied the city. This experience stayed with Ted throughout his life – he often told of his adventures in vivid detail.

By December 1946 the occupation was well in hand and the Army discharged him early. He could not get back home to Mississippi fast enough. The ocean crossing was rough and the troop trains were slow, standing for hours on sidings as priority freight and passenger trains sped by. When they were delayed again in Dallas, he and several other troops pooled their money and chartered a plane to take them home. It was his first plane ride.

Back home in Mississippi, his brother, Kirk, got him a job at a creamery. It paid well, but he found the work unsatisfying. He dated, hung out with his friends and wondered about his future. He met a girl on a blind date that he particularly liked – she was feisty and opinionated, and he was drawn to that. But her father was a piece of work. Helen had to be home by 10 or else . . . what? No one knew what Wyman Lancaster was capable of and no one wanted to find out.

Ted and Helen’s relationship deepened and in May, 1948, they eloped. Ted’s job at the creamery came to an end that fall, so the young couple decided to take advantage of the GI bill and left for the University of Mississippi at Oxford, where Ted would study pharmacy.

College was tough for Ted. He had been an indifferent student in high school and dropped out to join the service before graduation. He obtained his GED but his math and science skills were lacking. He studied hard to catch up, and he never wavered from his goal. In 1952, he graduated from Ole Miss with a degree in pharmacy, and he and Helen set out into the world.

The next two decades were filled with highs and lows. The lows included the loss of their first child to miscarriage and the loss of both of their fathers. The highs included three healthy children and a promising career. After a dozen years of working for other people, Ted wanted a management role and in 1964 he was named manager and part-owner of the largest drugstore in Hattiesburg.

For five years, he and Helen worked long hours to make the drugstore a success. But the city was changing. People were moving out into bedroom communities and commerce was migrating toward the newly opened interstate on the edge of town. The store steadily lost ground to competitors. Ted and Helen faced financial troubles of their own and sold their house in Petal and moved into a rental home in Hattiesburg. Things seemed to be going backward. By 1969 both Ted and Helen were ready for a change.

It came in the form of Hurricane Camille, a devastating storm that destroyed much of the Mississippi Gulf Coast in August 1969 and created a swath of destruction north through Hattiesburg. In the aftermath of the storm, the economy was in ruins. An Ohio-based drug store chain called SupeRx came to Mississippi recruiting pharmacists for its rapidly growing network. The pay was better and there seemed to be promise in moving north. Ted accepted the position, and the family moved first to Louisville and then to Dayton. Ted and Helen wanted their children to be able to attend a Seventh Day Adventist school, and Spring Valley Academy in Centerville was recommended as one of the best.

Life got much better in Dayton, but Ted still felt unfulfilled. As a retail pharmacist, he spent much of his time minding stores that were becoming five-and-dime establishments. He wanted more. His children were approaching adulthood. The family had become part of the Dayton Adventist community. Helen was working at Kettering Memorial Hospital, and Janet was in nursing school there. Ted and Mark were also working their part-time as they attended school. In 1973, he accepted a position as a staff pharmacist at Kettering Memorial Hospital. He took a cut in salary but here he could concentrate on what he enjoyed –helping people by being the best pharmacist he could be.

Ted formally retired in 1993, and then he came back part-time for another 11 years. He came back because he wanted to and because the Kettering pharmacy kept calling him back. He was liked and loved by those he worked with. He drew cartoons that celebrated individuals he worked with and that occasionally skewered the hospital administration (he got in a trouble a couple of times for this). He almost never missed work. He was accurate and professional. He finally retired the second time, at age 77, when he decided that his waning concentration may pose a risk to patients.

At that point in his life, Ted could look back on a life well-lived. He had made a difference. His children were grown and successful in their careers, and he had five grandchildren who not only loved him but liked to spend time with him. His wife was still the feisty and devoted wife she had been for 50+ years, and she filled him with a continuing sense of purpose (and challenge). He feared he would lose her in 2004 when she had to undergo open heart surgery – he probably could not have survived without her and feared being without her more than anything – but she came through stronger than ever. His own health was declining, however, in ways that could not be repaired surgically. His blood pressure became increasingly unpredictable, and years of chronic hypertension had weakened and damaged his heart. He worked hard to control his diabetes and was largely successful. Both he and Helen felt it was time to make their last move to be closer to their children, and in May 2005, they moved to a perfect house in Westerville.

In his final two years, Ted seemed content but those around him could tell he was contemplating the end of his life. He spent more time thinking about it but not talking about it, except on a few occasions to Helen. He and Helen studied the Bible and talked about what was to come after the Resurrection. As a pharmacist, he knew that he was walking a tightrope. Eventually – sooner rather than later – one of his medical conditions was going to take him. After repeated trips by ambulance to the hospital, he and his family had become used to rushing to the emergency room only to find that he was all right after all – he just needed a different medication or a change of some kind and he was as good as ever. He knew better. The last trip was a shock to all – there would be no recovery. But he was ready.

Ted’s life does not end here. His love and example have shaped his children, grandchildren, and will shape his great grandchildren. They, in turn, will influence others who they know during their lives. Ted was a private and humble man who never sought to build a monument to himself in life, but through his influence on others, he did so.

How he impacted me: Earlier in my life, I thought I was very different from him, and I am. However, like my Dad, I want to help others and use my time on Earth for a purpose. He taught me that by example. He taught me that the most important thing I could do in life is support my family and be respectful of my parents. I never doubted him when I was a kid – when he suffered setbacks in his career, I never feared that he would throw in the towel and abandon his family. We loved each other but rarely said so, and when we did, it was awkward. He was a decent, committed, loving person, and I’ll do my best to live up to his example.

-Ted Ford (son)

The Accident

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This is video shows the bike trail that Dad and Matt went mountain biking on, on Sunday afternoon (June 10). Dad didn't ride his bike back out.

Dad and Matt went mountain biking on Sunday afternoon. While riding across a small bridge that stretched across a dry creek bed, the front tire of the bike slipped off. Causing bike and dad to crash into the ground below. Flying head first, he landed squarely on his head and neck. Later dad told us that it was the worst pain that he had ever experienced. Fearing that his neck was broken, he managed to stand up and walk with Matt for about 1/4 of a mile, with each step his neck muscles tightened causing incredible pain. Unable to go any farther dad stood against a tree he waited for the ambulance to arrive.


Around 7pm, June 10, 2007; my mom received a phone call from my cousin Matt. Daddy had been in a bicycle accident. The ambulance was headed to St. Anne’s Hospital, which was around a 10 minute drive from Grandmommy & Granddaddy’s house. Mom was a basket case and Ted (my dad’s brother) was going to drive us to the hospital. I was a lot calmer then mom, but since I had only been in the states for a 1 ½ weeks, I wasn’t that confident of a driver in busy Columbus traffic. At St. Anne’s we found out that Daddy had been sent to Riverside Methodist Hospital, they were a better trauma hospital.

I wasn’t overly worried until we got to Riverside, in ER room #50, I found my daddy. As a life guard I have seen people strapped to a backboard, but none of them were my daddy. Mom was worried sick, dad was being wheeled out every few minutes for x-rays. It seemed like forever until dad was back and another doctor was checking on him. He was complaining about pain in his side. The doctor thought that something might have happened to his liver, so they whisked him away, yet again, for another x-ray. I thought that it sounded like a broken rib, since he said that it hurt to breath. A short while later a different ER doctor came in. Ignoring the rest of us in the room (probably a good thing, since mom was freaking out about everything) and told dad in a rather cheerful voice that he had broken his C2 vertebrae and crushed his C7 vertebrae; but was incredibly lucky since he was able to move and breath on his own. Dad trying to be cheerful, while staring at the ceiling commented, “So basically I broke my neck.” The doctor agreed and told mom who looked positively green, that the surgeon would be in shortly.

Ted drove me back to Grandmommy and Granddaddy’s house. I hugged Grandmommy who was crying and wanting to know how her little Marky was doing. We had come to Ohio to take care of my grandparents, Grandmommy had just had knee replacement surgery, being stubborn she would wander about the house without her cane or walker…when caught she was duly scolded, she would always promise to keep her walker with her. I said goodnight to Grandmommy and went to the study where I was staying. I wrote a friend a short e-mail and then cried myself to sleep.

The rest of the week was filled with cooking, waiting, answering phone calls, cooking more, waiting, and way too much time spent in a hospital. Felicia drove out on Monday, the nurses were seriously hovering about (Janet –dad’s sister is a nurse; Judy-Ted’s wife is a nurse; and Felicia is a nurse). Daddy was scheduled to have surgery on Tuesday morning, but an emergency came up (more urgent then dad’s) so they rescheduled it for Wednesday morning.

Wednesday morning dawned; we were at the hospital at 5:45a.m. The nurses let us see daddy, and then let us go with him when they wheeled him down to the surgical waiting room place (whatever it is called). Only one person could wait with dad there, so it was decided that Felicia would. Mom and I went to the waiting room. Felicia came out almost an hour later, I hate waiting, and waiting for a surgery to get over with isn’t any better.

We got the o.k. from the surgeon hours later. He told us that the surgery went well, everything was in order. The C7 – since it had been completely crushed had to get put together with a bolt and screw and a piece of donor bone. C2 would heal on its own with the help of the Miami J collar.

When we were finally allowed to see daddy, he was Mr. Grumpy Gills. Which most people are when they get done with surgery…he looked rather green too. Mom told Felicia and I to go home and take care of Grandmommy and Granddaddy.

On Thursday dad was discharged. Boy was he ever ready to get out of there…the little old man who wheeled him out of the hospital couldn’t go fast enough for daddy.

Now the real work started, dad is stubborn, and when he was awake (since his pain medicine made him sleepy) we often caught him doing things that he wasn’t suppose to. Such as trying to carry his laptop to the comfortable green chair, while using his cane, and not being able to hold on to anything when trying to sit down. He still wasn’t steady on his feet, you try walking and looking straight ahead and not at your feet, isn’t as easy as you might think. If I caught him in the act of doing something that he wasn’t suppose I would yell out, “DAD!” and rush over and take the computer away. Mom would then hear me and yell out, “MARK!” rushing over she would guide him to his chair, get him comfortable, bring him a soda and a movie to watch while I set up the computer. Really who in their right mind would fight pampering like that? Stubborn people…that’s who…At the same time while keeping an eye on dad, we had to watch out for Grandmommy. She was constantly doing something, like trying to take out the trash, or wanting to water her flowers. When caught one of us would ask, “WHERE”S YOUR CANE?” while the other one would help Grandmommy back to the house and have her sit down and talk to her about letting us do the work.

In the evenings we would take daddy on his “walkies” a short walk around the block or a walk at a near by park. Mom would be on one side of dad and I would be on the other. Things did get more enjoyable as the days and weeks went by.

I left for camp 3 weeks after we got there. One week later dad went home. Every month dad had to go back to Ohio for a check up. He was able to spend time with his parents as well. Which was a blessing in disguise, in September, 5 days after his dad’s death; he went to his last appointment, his surgeon told him that he was no more likely to break his neck now, then he was before the accident. His neck had healed perfectly.