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Hi there. I didn't have too great a day at all today. My word count was pretty low; it was: 859 and my pain count was pretty high; it was 8.5 out of a scale of 1 to 10, with 10 being dead because of the pain. My husband had to undress me and put me into bed as soon as he got home. I'm just getting up to make a few notes so I don't forget what my day was like. I always get melancholy when I'm in this much pain--sorry.
It looks like Sande's mother-in-law may need a pacemaker for her heart. They put her in Intensive Care last night to keep a good eye on her, she was so wiped out from the ordeal of not being able to breath and because her heart will beat like it's supposed to for a minute, then it will stop for seven whole seconds, then start sluggishly again. That sure doesn't sound too good to me!
My mom and Helen (that's Sande's mother-in-law) have become very good friends since my father died in 1987 and I think my mother would be lost without her. I wish she'd develop a relationship like that with Dion's (my husband) mom, Barbara.
Barbara is so amazing! You know how you hear all those horror stories about awful mothers-in law--well, I can't relate to that. Barb is so fantastic. I even call her "Mom," too, because I love her so much! I've known Dion's parent's since I was a teenager and they've always treated me like one of the family, especially Dion's father, Duane; he died in 2005 and took a big piece of my heart with him. He was like a second father to me.
Duane has watched over me since I was a young girl, never forgetting holidays, birthdays, or just to show that he and Barb cared. You see, when I was a teenager, I was engaged to their son, Dion's big brother, Dana.
Dana was special. He was destined to become someone great. He was the kid that was the most popular and well-liked, best-looking and talented in so many areas. He was a track star, he was into photography, he worked hard helping his father with farming chores and helping his mother take care of the other four younger children. He'd just spent the day with me at my school and the week before I had spent the day at his because they had a special month in which they allowed school visitations so that kids from neighboring schools would know how some of their friends lived; it was part of a community awareness program.
After decorating the gymnasium for the prom that was to be held that weekend, Dana was going to stop over to see me and if it was too late, he would call. I started to worry because it was getting late, but when the phone rang I was so relieved because I thought it was Dana telling me that he was done and safe at home...but it wasn't.
It was a friend of Dana's named Don Sharp on the phone. He was calling to tell me that Dana had been in a car accident. I couldn't breathe; I know that the fear must have shone on my face because my parents had come out to yell and tell me that it was too late to receive phone calls and instead, they took one look at me as I was listening to Don speak, they stood watching me, holding each other. I couldn't answer Don back when he asked me when I had talked to Dana last. My voice just wouldn't come. My Dad took the phone from me and asked Don what was happening while Mom held me. That was the end of my innocence and believing that this world was a safe and beautiful place.
Three days later, Dana died. It was a Saturday morning. My mother called me to come upstairs and I remember waking up so happy and light-hearted because that day was the day that Mom and Dad had promised me that they would take me to see him. I hadn't seen Dana since Tuesday at my school and had cried day and night since, wondering how he was and wishing I could drive to the hospital myself.
I hopped up the steps and my mother was waiting for me at the top of them, wringing her hands and staring straight into my eyes. We stood for several seconds, looking at each other and then I knew...
"I'm sorry, I'm so, so sorry, honey," she said as I quickly walked away from her, more frightened than I had ever been in my entire life. I heard someone screaming, "No! No! No!" It was the most pitiful keening I had ever heard. They just kept screaming and crying and gasping for air.
My father ran home from his car dealership next door to our house and took me in his arms. Just then I noticed that the screams had quieted, and I realized that it had been me.
Dad and Mom sat me down and told me what I had already figured out. They explained that the injuries that Dana had sustained from the car accident that he had been in on Tuesday night were so severe that he just couldn't survive them. He had severe brain damage and the Lord took him home to be with Him.
I was in a daze. I went in to shock and even though several of my friends came over to the house to spend the day, much of the rest of that day is a blur. That day was 15 May 1970, almost 38 years ago. It's so weird; I don't even have to look at a calendar to be able to feel that date coming near.
I know that Dana would be so happy for Dion and me to have found each other; we are the two people in the world that probably loved him the most in the world and the Lord must have thought that we belonged together--and I think he was right!
Dion and I are very much in love--we're soul-mates! He is so kind and tender to me. I must have done something really good in my life to have deserved being blessed with a husband like him; he's one of a kind and I love him with all my heart!
Sweet dreams, everyone. By the way, I changed the theme on my page here. It's called "Firefly Night." Wouldn't that be perfect for the "Freckled Fireflys?" ~Cynde