everyone calls her mimi

It’s like and infirmary around here.

Sharaun’s sick, Keaton’s sick, and I’m left wondering if I’m overtired because I didn’t sleep well or if I might be fending off whatever’s taking them down.  Monday morning I’ll be off for an overnighter up north, joining the other sawmill managers for a big manager-moot where we’ll presumably be motivated.

I couldn’t make it to last year’s manager-moot because I was sick, and I might just be sick at this year’s.  Maybe I’m allergic to self-congratulation and mutual-masturbation.  I suppose I’ve made the wrong career choice, if so.  Although I’m envisioning a resume bullet-point on “strives under adversity” or somesuch.  What?  Let’s go.

Sharaun’s grandmother had a fall about a week and a half ago, and she’s been in the hospital since.

I love this woman.  I lost my paternal grandmother when I was very young, and had moved across the country and been removed  from my mom’s mom for years when she passed.  As such I didn’t really get to experience a “grandmotherly” relationship in my more “mature” years (when you learn to appreciate those things).  Sharaun has always had an amazing relationship with her mom’s mother, her name is Anne but everyone calls her Mimi.  And having been with Sharaun in one way or another for something like sixteen years now I’ve come to be close with her myself.  In fact, Mimi has become like the grandmother the adult-me never had.

Mimi is penultimate southern widow.  Loves God, is practical, wise, still in plainly and admirably in love with her gone-too-soon husband, has a great sense of humor, and dotes over all her grandchildren and great-grandchildren.  Marrying into the family I’ve been adopted into that first class of the doted-upon.  Spending some time with Mimi is always one of the highlights of our too-infrequent trips home to Florida.  I have some great memories of mornings after spending the night at Mimi’s, sitting downstairs drinking coffee and eating danish while working the crossword puzzle together with her.

After the fall, things were not good.  Mimi’s liver was bleeding badly and she underwent a series of emergency surgeries to staunch the flow.  For more than a few nights Sharaun and I both slept lightly, worrying we’d hear the phone ring at a foreboding hour.  After the surgery ultimately proved successful, things appeared to be looking up but she experienced another setback when she was unresponsive after coming off anesthesia.  For another couple of long days we waited for news of anything, but nothing happened to report.  It was a stressful time for Sharaun, and I tried to be as sensitive as a I could.

Yesterday, though, Mimi finally showed signs of waking.  Then, around 5pm our time Sharaun’s mom called in tears to say she’d opened her eyes more than once. It may sound small but for us it was a huge relief.  I’ve never been more happy to hear about someone doing something so simple as opening their eyes.  A ways to go yet yes, but hearing that took some of the weight off my mind and warmed things up in my chest.  And we pray.

Goodnight.


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