Giving Thanks - Part 2

As I began and continued writing this blog three years ago, I only measured how much it was being read by the comments that were posted. And oh, how my self-worth as a blogger was dependent on those comments. I was much like the teenage girls who check to see how many "likes" or followers they have on Instagram. It was only a week ago (yes, I am slow) that I discovered the Blogger Stats page on my dashboard. Oh, there are the real numbers. Well then.

And it was on that stats page that I realized more and more people are reading my Giving Thanks - Part 1 post. That was my very last post in 2011 - with no Part 2! I had promised to tell of "...how God's hand was such a part of those few days from October 4th through the 7th. Days that could possibly only be described by someone as a nightmare. Yet there were so many glimpses of His presence, His Holy Spirit moving among us, His unexpected - and unexplained - gifts and blessing."

And I fell short and broke my promise. (Now this post is pretty graphic, but I feel it needs to be told so that you can understand the magnitude of how I feel the glimpses of God were so evident.)

After my father-in-law's funeral on October 7, 2011, my parents, grandmother and two sons left for my parents' home a little over an hour away. My husband and I waved goodbye and went back to his mother's to decompress. Around an hour later, we received a call from my brother-in-law that there had been a terrible one-car accident. A tire had blown and my parents' SUV had flipped three times.

Herein lies the first blessing.  My sister and brother-in-law had left the funeral before my parents. They stopped at a convenience store and, therefore, ended up behind them and drove up on the wreck site. They were the first on the scene. Somehow, Sumter was able to get out of his seatbelt and crawl out of one of the broken windows. They saw him standing on the side of the interstate beside the overturned SUV. My sister was immediately able to comfort Sumter as well as assess the situation. (She works as a physical therapist in the trauma unit.). Do I believe God had a hand in them being the first on the scene? Absolutely, I do.

But no such luck for Jackson. He was still trapped inside, eyes squeezed shut to block out the blood-soaked view of my mother, but not the sound of the moans of both my parents. My grandmother was halfway thrown from the vehicle and her leg was on his shoulder. His seatbelt was stuck and he couldn't get out.

But herein lies the second blessing.  Jackson tells us that he didn't get out by himself. He says an African-American man with dreadlocks and a Yankees baseball cap came up to the SUV and asked, "Hey, buddy. Can you get out?" (This was a man he says he saw just moments before the accident in a green car. He says the man smiled and waved to him as he drove by.) Jackson told him that he couldn't. The man got box cutters, cut the seatbelt and helped him climb out. Jackson swears this happened. He can describe the man and his voice. But no one else saw or talked to this man. We've asked my sister and brother-in-law. We've asked other witnesses. We've asked the highway patrol. We've even seen photos. There were no African-Americans in any of the photographs. No green car anywhere near the site. That's crazy, we thought. This was a wreck that made the AP news wire and was even on the evening news in other parts of the country. This was a wreck that held up traffic for many miles and hours. No one just leaves the scene of a wreck of that magnitude. No one... but an angel. And we hold on to that truth. Do I believe God had a hand in that deadlocked angel in a Yankees cap? Absolutely, I do.

Both of my parents were airlifted to the trauma center where my sister works. Sumter and Jackson were both banged up pretty badly and were taken to the same hospital, but they were ok. I found this out from my brother-in-law's phone call. But as many times I asked, he wouldn't say anything about my grandmother. I don't know whether it was because he didn't want to tell me on the phone or because he alone had just witnessed her last moments alive.

And herein lies the last blessing I will share. My sweet Muz was not wearing a seatbelt and was thrown halfway out of the SUV. I still don't know all of the details of how she was found by my brother-in-law in relation to the vehicle. I'm not sure I want to know. What I do know is that she was pinned. She was breathing. Her eyes were closed. Her body was in shock. But her last moments were with my brother-in-law holding her head and praying over her. And then she died.  How beautiful is that? After something so violent and sudden, to have your granddaughter's husband, a Godly, faithful man who loves you and you love back, usher you out of your life on here on earth to your eternal life in heaven. Do I believe God had a hand in that?  Absolutely, I do.

So there they are. The glimpses of God and His involvement in even the most tragic circumstances in our lives. The reminders that He is in control. The promises that He will bless even the most painfuland incomprehensible times. And for these I am grateful.

Friendship Basket

We are almost a month to the day my father-in-law died (October 4) and the wreck (October 7) that will affect my family's lives forever. I am still in the midst of writing thank you notes for the outpouring of care and concern by so many friends around us. We have had more meals lovingly prepared than I could have ever imagined. Those nights we didn't have a casserole dish placed in the cooler on the back porch, we used one of the numerous gift cards we received to eat at local restaurants.

Cards and memorials are still pouring in from friends near and far, old and new.  Until you go through something so tragic, you just don't realize how much a quick note can mean.  (At least I didn't...)

S and J have also been taken care of by their friends and parents, taking them to their activities and letting them sleepover on school nights. One friend of S and his parents even made the hour and a half trip to Columbia for my grandmother's visitation.

One gesture that really touched Mike and me was a large basket we found on our back porch the night we drove back to Aiken that horrible night. It was around eleven o'clock and we had spent the past six hours shuttling ourselves between the children's emergency room with the boys and the Trauma Unit/ICU with Mama and Daddy. Mama was in emergency surgery with a neurosurgeon (no brain, but intense scalp injuries).

As we were driving that night, I received a text from my sweet friend Kiki:
"Just want you to know that Bunco girls and Sunday Class class are praying for your family. Look on your back porch when you get home - I left a basket of snacks, entertainment, etc for you to take to the hospital as you go back and forth with your mom and dad. It's from the Bunco girls. We love you and are so sorry."

And this is what we found. Both Mike and I teared up. (Ok, I cried.) We were just overwhelmed. We couldn't believe it. Kiki and another sweet friend, Tanya, had filled this huge basket to the brim with bottled water... magazines... Chapstick... snacks... Advil... pens... a notebook... gum... notecards... more snacks... tissues... travel toothbrushes... hand lotion... more snacks... and change for vending machines. These girls thought of everything!

I kept it in my car the next two weeks, replenishing my "hospital bag" every day. And every day, I thanked God for my friends and the gifts they have given me, both tangible and intangible. Now, I'm just ready to be on the giving end myself these days...

The Hijack

So here it is... My sweet friend has taken over. And isn't that what good friends do when it's just more than this "Steel Magnolia" can take? Read on for a glimpse into my life these past six weeks...

Hello, I am hijacking Bevy’s blog because I miss reading it as much as you do. I am her BFF, also named Beverly (yea, we know). Beverly and I are different in many ways – she is sweet and awesome, and speaks nicely all.of.the.time. I am snarky; talk like a sailor, and pretty much like to buck my fine southern upbringing. Actually we make a great team, and I just wanted to for warn you, because I am writing this and not Bevy.

As some of you may know, Bevy’s life had been turned upside down this summer. (a total s&^% storm!) I know she posted about her father-in-law’s brain cancer in early June. Unfortunately, that was just the beginning.

Her boys' biological father unexpectedly passed away in August. He was buried with a full military service, and I know that the boys had to be impressed and proud. It was a very nice service. I know, as I was there. S wanted his oldest friend, my son Michael, to be there with him.

A month later her father-in-law passed away from brain cancer. Bevy of course was super-girl taking care of Mike, the boys, and their losses. (She is really good at that, by the way!). But then to add to the tragedy, on their way home from the funeral, Bevy’s mother, father, grandmother and the boys were involved in a horrible car accident. She lost her grandmother, and her parents were both hurt badly; her mother the worst. The boys - by the Grace of God - were just bumped and cut up.

I made it down to Muz’s (Bevy’s grandmother, we all called her Muz- she was that kind of grandmother) funeral along with many other college friends. (The cross in the picture is from two of these dear college girls...) It was beautiful, as Muz was the perfect southern lady. She would have been very impressed with the visitation and reception, ham biscuits, finger sandwiches, cheese biscuits, and punch on one of those big pretty cut glass punch bowls. To be honest I kept looking for her there because it was an event she would not have missed. Her service was lovely. Bevy’s uncle, an Episcopal priest, gave the most wonderful homily, as did the Bishop. It really was a special day for a special lady.

Bevy’s parents are both home now and I know it will be a long road to recovery both mentally and physically for both of them. She has been back and forth helping with everything along with her sweet sister.

I know there are many more challenges they will all face, but they are one of the closest and most faithful families I have ever known.

Please keep them all in your prayers, and hopefully Bevy will get back to blogging soon, or I will have to guest write again. And I can assure you I am not nearly as uplifting and spiritual as she is.

Have a wonderful week and hug all the ones you love!!
Beverly – the other one.

Guest Blogger Alert... or Best Friend Rescues Blog From Oblivion

Today I received an email from my best friend:

"OK, so I know you have not wanted to blog b/c you don't want to keep writing about bad things, sooooo I wrote a blog for you. I know, not really my place but I know I am not the only one waiting to see you write again. I wrote all the bad stuff without going into much detail I hope, so you don't have to write it, and you can go back to your happy uplifting crap (I mean stuff : ). Oh, smile!"

She's right. I haven't posted - or even read blogs - since June 24. And for reasons that really have been too surreal and unbelievable. So she's hacking "It's a Golden Day". Thank God (and I do mean that literally) for her. I think I've said it before, but she is my rock. C*** and all.