pivot point

This is not a week like any other week.

Yesterday, Ginger flew to Birmingham to be with her mother who had a heart catherization today. When we found out about the procedure last week, Ginger called her mother’s doctor to ask what was going on. The physician’s assistant was compassionate and careful in her responses, which meant she did not give Ginger much clarity as to the severity of the situation. When Ginger articulated her struggle in trying to figure out whether or not to go to Alabama, the woman said, “If it were my mother, I’d come.”

The test showed blockage “in the worst possible place,” according to the doctor, and Rachel is to have open heart surgery on Friday morning. Both Ginger and I have family who have survived the same surgery and thrived following it. My dad is alive because of his quadruple bypass. We know this is not experimental stuff. And it’s Rachel: my wonderful, beautiful, crazy mother-in-law. We are both hopeful and concerned.

Beyond the surgery, we have several things to sort out. When you are an only child who lives a couple thousand miles away from your parents who both have health issues, how you think about the days to come becomes a multi-layered process. We are not in a panic, or in a place where we have to make big changes immediately or even contemplate them in the near future; we are aware that we are entering a new chapter in our lives together. This week is a pivot point from which life swings us in a new direction.

I’m not prepared to get much more philosophical than that this evening. I’m writing tonight to ask you to pray — for Rachel, for Reuben, for Ginger, and for me. Thanks.

Peace,
Milton