3 DAYS OF TRIAL

I like birthdays.   At my age it’s a celebration not only of me (my life),  but of my family and all the friends I have.    It’s my birthday tomorrow.   But there are some other more important things that are taking up all our attention:

Here is the last time I saw our dear Meghan . . .   the young woman who is such a big part of our lives and who is so gravely ill right now:
Meghan in amb.jpg.  . . .  well,  the last I’ve seen her this week.  Being put into an ambulance.  The doctors decided to move her to another hospital where “the most seriously ill patients go.”

Son went with her, of course.    Which is my second “trial.”     He followed the ambulance to the hospital in . . .  Detroit.     And Son drives a gleaming black GTO.   

Attention-getter, even at our local intersection traffic lights.

Okay,  just follow a mother’s heart.   Driving a car like that in one of the murder capitals of our country;  one of the hijacking capitals of our country.     Doesn’t matter that he’s a good driver, an intelligent person, and that everyone said he’d be just fine.   This mother’s heart was not at ease until I got a text from him telling me he’s in the hospital, with Meghan,  and he’s okay.  Now he’s okay.   I’m okay.

While this was going on,  this was going on, my third trial:

Flight

Daughter and Cooper were in that little airplane,  (over Nevada), heading right into that severe storm over Chicago.   Their projected flight path took them north, then east,  then back west to Chicago . . .  so that they could get a little commuter plane that would take them eastward . . .  right back through the storm to our home.

That was the news.  The actual flight turned out to be a bit better:  about an hour delay in  take-off,  but a strong headwind reduced the flight by 30 minutes, connecting flights were made, they arrived, and all is well, if not a little busy around here.

“Uncle” Son is due to arrive soon tonight, a happy reunion for brother and sister, for uncle and nephew . . .   and hopefully he can remain present for the birthday celebrations we will squeeze in tomorrow.

All in all, there is a lot to be thankful to God for.

Deo gratias.

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