Category: Life

We had to put a few fires out yesterday:

Okay, not really. But isn’t this a cool shot? The boys dropped a smoke bomb down into this tube and L lifted it up and started pretending it was a grenade launcher.

Boys.

We had a great fourth. The day started out cloudy and I was afraid we wouldn’t be able to shoot off the bag full of crackers we had bought, but luckily, the day cleared and by the time evening rolled around, the temps were pleasant, the skies cleared and the sun came out.

It was one of the most comfortable 4th of July celebrations we’ve had in quite some time. (Usually, the temps are high and the humidity is so thick you can cut a chunk out of it).

We went over to Kevin’s parent’s house. It’s a tradition. They live on the outskirts of an outlying town with plenty of room to shoot off crackers.

Though technically, we could have shot them off at our house this year. Springfield finally lifted the ban on shooting firecrackers off within city limits – for the first time in 60 years.

But we didn’t. Kevin’s parents fired up the grill and we had hotdogs and hamburgers and homemade ice cream with chocolate sauce. (Which I had, of course).

His sisters came too, so it was really fun sitting around and catching up on everyone’s lives. The number of kids is dwindling. All of the older kids were not there – they were all off doing their own thing (many aren’t even in Missouri anymore!). But our boys and two of Kev’s sister’s kids were there, so we took advantage of their youth and watched them light all of the fireworks.

As usual, the smoke bombs were … well, da bomb.

There is just something about smoke bombs and boys.

They’ve always been Jazz’s favorite. He can easily burn (pun intended) hours lighting those suckers off and then walking through the smoke.

This year, he actually stepped on a few and walked away with multi-colored shoes.

Yeah. Mom wasn’t too happy about that little stunt, but hey, they’re his shoes and if he’s happy walking around in clown shoes, then who am I to protest?

The highlight of the evening was watching Kevin walk across the floor without his walker. We joke that he walks like an old man (and in fact, walks exactly like an old man), but I’m confident that his stride will smooth out and he’ll be back to normal in no time.

That was the first time his family had seen him walk without his walker and they were all impressed with his progress.

We all are.

I think it bothered Kevin that he couldn’t get out there and light up the fireworks with the boys. He’s always done that in year’s past and there were times I would look over and he was on the edge of his seat watching the boys intently. I know part of that was to make sure they were playing it safe, but some of that was his need to get out in the middle of the action. The 4th of July is one of his favorite holidays (in fact, his sister told me that he used to keep a drawer full of fireworks in his room – all year long!), so I know it sort of killed him to not be able to get out there and actively participate.

Don’t worry, honey. You’ll be out there next year.

We had splurged and bought some of the big-time ball … thingies for our grand finale. We buy these things every year and every year they don’t disappoint. However, this year, they didn’t shoot up as high as they needed to go, so we had several explode way too close to the ground and the boys had to dodge multi-colored sparks and falling debris.

It was at once both scary and fun.

This was the first time, in a long time, that Kevin’s sisters had come over and celebrated the 4th with us, and I think they really enjoyed the slower, and more relaxed, pace of our “do it ourselves” fireworks show as opposed to attending one of those big fancy, over crowded shows the churches and/or the city puts on.

We got home really late last night. The boys were tuckered out, as I knew they would be. They ran more last night than they probably have in the past year (and this INCLUDES PE class). Kevin was also really tired. In fact, he got up, had breakfast, then went back to bed. He then got up to take a shower and went back to bed after his shower.

I could tell his fatigue irritated and puzzled him, but I can’t say I was surprised. The man doesn’t sleep that well to begin with and his healing body needs all of the sleep it can get. I think his body just finally pooped out on him and FORCED him to rest.

At any rate, it’s been a really slow and relaxing day today. It’s been really nice.

Watching videos like this one …

… do nothing for my peace of mind, let me tell you.

For those of you just tuning in … (where have you been??) … on April 16th, Kevin was involved in a motorcycle accident. He was hit head on. He had to have three separate surgeries to repair his pelvis – he has scars that literally run from one side of his body to the next (AND one that covers his entire left butt cheek).

They had to surgically implant five plates and numerous screws and pins in order to put his pelvis back together again.

He will have to live with that hardware for the rest of his life.

We’re also going on vacation in about 10 days. We’re heading up to New York, then catching a cruise boat to Canada.

I’m nervous enough about the trip itself, now I’m worried about getting him through airport security.

He will set the metal detectors off – there is no question about this. We will be detained – I’m mentally prepared for this. My worry is, will he be subjected to something as humiliating as these poor people did in the video?

The doctors warned us that he will likely have to show his scars to prove he did indeed have surgery. Those scars are in his groin area. This really can’t end well, no matter how you look at it. The doctor gave us a medical card to carry with us, and we plan on taking a copy of his x-rays, but still, the TSA is unpredictable and there is no telling what he will have to endure when the time comes.

I’m not that worried about Springfield. We’re flying out of our home town and the airport is small potatoes compared to the bigger airports, so we shouldn’t (keyword: shouldn’t) have any problem starting our trip.

We’re flying out of New Jersey on the way home. I’m a little more worried about that one.

Though I completely and totally understand the need to search people and make sure no one is carrying anything dangerous on the plane, I’m not confident that the TSA agents will make wise judgment calls when it comes to our situation. I don’t have a problem with being stopped and searched, we have nothing to hide, I just hope that they treat Kevin with dignity and respect – the man has already been through so much hell, let’s not put him there again in front of a crowd of curious, and perhaps resentful, people.

When I wake up in the morning, one of the first places I check is Facebook.

And today, one of my friends posted a video.

About driving safely.

She posted it because she works with teens and she wanted something to remind teens to take driving seriously and to be safe.

I understand her reasons for posting it, but it was if she were speaking directly to me.

I won’t post the video – it’s honestly too upsetting. In fact, after watching it, I cried, hard, for a full fifteen minutes. It was an ugly, silent, uncontrollable, gut-wrenching cry that ended with a pounding headache.

The video was very graphic. It showed people being thrown from cars, smashed into poles and trees, crushed between obstacles, and thrown from motorcycles.

Motorcycles.

I would like to think I’ve done a pretty good job at keeping my mental health under control throughout Kevin’s accident. I’ve been strong. Yes. I’ve had moments when I broke down and temporarily lost it (his surgeries were the worst moments for me), but overall, I’m proud of myself for keeping my cool.

But when I watched that video this morning, that thread of control I’ve been so careful to keep from unraveling over these past several months, snapped.

There was a time period, shortly after the accident, where I would close my eyes and picture Kevin hurling through the air. I felt his fear. And it made me sick to think of him lying on that road, broken, alone and wishing for his family to comfort him.

I believe that’s one of the reasons I didn’t sleep much when we were in Columbia. Like a section from an old movie that had been spliced out, frames from his accident would play over and over and I just couldn’t bare reliving it through my mind’s eye.

It bothers me that I wasn’t there. That I didn’t have the chance to hold his hand, pray with him, soothe him until help arrived. We do everything together – it’s rare that we’re not together. And to think I wasn’t there to help him in some way …

Now you know I’m strong, but I’m not invincible. I’ve had my moments when I’ve broken down and cried my heart out. I’ve had moments when I felt sorry for Kevin, for myself, for time lost. But we’re bouncing back. Our lives were only interrupted; we’re slowly getting back to normal.

Through God’s grace, we’re pulling through this. And I’m confident that one day, we’re all going to look back on this time period and find it hard to believe that it even happened. Our lives will resume and we will have triumphed over Satan’s attack.

Because WE WILL triumph.

I think that’s a large part of why Kevin and I are so determined to go on this vacation. Yes. It will be work. Yes. It will likely be difficult for Kevin. But we will NOT allow Satan to win. Period.

And that’s evident in Kevin’s attitude, too.

He has reached the point where he is sick to death of this entire situation. So, he’s refusing to allow it to slow him down.

Case in point: That picture above.

Tuesday, I was sitting at my computer when I heard the door open and close. I didn’t think too much about it, though I did think it was strange that one of the boys would have gone outside. (Our boys rarely get up from their computer chair, let alone voluntarily go outside).

Five minutes later, I peeked outside to see who was out there and what he was doing.

To my utter surprise, it was Kevin. And he was picking up tree limbs that had blown down from the last summer storm.

I nervously watched him. He nearly lost his balance a few times, but overall, he did great. I wanted to help him, but I sensed that my help would not be welcomed. I watched him for several minutes before stepping outside. He was all smiles. It’s such a relief to him that his life is getting back to normal. He’ll be out there again, shovel in hand, sitting on his walker seat, just waiting to kill moles next.

Mark. My. Words.

We also got Kevin into his truck on Tuesday, too. I fired it up (it hadn’t been driven in two months) and we drove around for a bit. Again, he was all smiles. He loved being able to ride in his truck again.

In fact … the PT he saw yesterday said that he should be able to drive again, if he felt up to it. He suggested we go to a parking lot and see how it goes.

So, we’ll probably go to a parking lot this weekend and see how it goes. Kevin said that he’s pretty confident he can drive, but he is wondering how his reaction time will be. Though we’ll test drive this weekend, I have a feeling he won’t feel ready to drive yet for several more weeks.

Then again, this man is constantly surprising me, so who knows.

The PT also gave him some sort of contraption that he attaches to his shoe. It’s supposed to help keep his right foot in the correct position. He has been having problems with being able to lift his right foot – they call it a foot drop – so they gave him this contraption to help him loosen the muscles in his ankle so he will have more flexibility.

So life is moving along for us. Kevin truly is getting better and better. He does have days when he’s more tired than others, but don’t we all? He’s only taking three pain pills a day now, which is pretty remarkable considering it’s only been eleven weeks since the accident.

But I’m blessed. I’m married to a very strong and very determined man and I thank God for him every day.

Every. Day.