The Progeny
Life...
...is so very incomprehensible sometimes.
There are one or two people I've kept in touch with over the past couple of years. People who were awaiting transplant or received a transplant right about the same time as Loren.
Sharon sent me a Christmas letter which arrived yesterday. I can remember Sharon because her name is the same as one of our daughters :-) and because she is a sweet congenial lady who was bearing up well under hard circumstances back in 2004 while her husband awaited a heart.
This past year they met the donor family.
Picture a couple of handsome boys heading off for school. They've forgotten to say goodbye to their mother so they return home. On their second time out, they stop at a busy intersection...the sun is very bright...they pull out into the path of an oncoming vehicle...
And just that quickly the chain of events are in motion for an 18-year-old athlete to have his heart donated to a much older man.
I cried my eyes out for awhile after THAT letter.
Later that day was the weekly shopping, it being Carolyn's turn to accompany me.
At the strip mall, I turned away from the Goodwill store to get two quick items at a grocery, first. "HEY!" I heard, and turned around..."Are you coming to the store later?" asked one of the usual ladies who run the Iowa Falls Goodwill.
"Yes," I yelled back, (we were fifty feet away) completely confused as to what was going on.
Here's the scoop: every year a man from the area donates 100 dollars to the store to be given out at the manager's discretion to a customer.
Apparently, I was that customer.
After getting over the initial shock, Carolyn and I scurried around, examining every section. It was more of a slow, stunned perusal, actually.
The first time I went up with a full shopping cart, it only amounted to 50 dollars, so Ma went back again!
In the end, I felt heelish. Sure, we always get most of our clothes at Goodwill because we have a large family, etc. But we are not as needy as some.
I think I should have left with the first cartload and told them to give the other fifty to someone else.
I could have begged off completely.
No one's ever accused me of thinking too fast on my feet.
Don't get me wrong, I'm very thankful. But I still feel like a louse.
______________
On another tack, we've gotten the crew together today for the last of the applesauce-making. It was beginning to smell like a vinegar factory out there in the addition and with all these able hands sitting around at their laptops...
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There are one or two people I've kept in touch with over the past couple of years. People who were awaiting transplant or received a transplant right about the same time as Loren.
Sharon sent me a Christmas letter which arrived yesterday. I can remember Sharon because her name is the same as one of our daughters :-) and because she is a sweet congenial lady who was bearing up well under hard circumstances back in 2004 while her husband awaited a heart.
This past year they met the donor family.
Picture a couple of handsome boys heading off for school. They've forgotten to say goodbye to their mother so they return home. On their second time out, they stop at a busy intersection...the sun is very bright...they pull out into the path of an oncoming vehicle...
And just that quickly the chain of events are in motion for an 18-year-old athlete to have his heart donated to a much older man.
I cried my eyes out for awhile after THAT letter.
Later that day was the weekly shopping, it being Carolyn's turn to accompany me.
At the strip mall, I turned away from the Goodwill store to get two quick items at a grocery, first. "HEY!" I heard, and turned around..."Are you coming to the store later?" asked one of the usual ladies who run the Iowa Falls Goodwill.
"Yes," I yelled back, (we were fifty feet away) completely confused as to what was going on.
Here's the scoop: every year a man from the area donates 100 dollars to the store to be given out at the manager's discretion to a customer.
Apparently, I was that customer.
After getting over the initial shock, Carolyn and I scurried around, examining every section. It was more of a slow, stunned perusal, actually.
The first time I went up with a full shopping cart, it only amounted to 50 dollars, so Ma went back again!
In the end, I felt heelish. Sure, we always get most of our clothes at Goodwill because we have a large family, etc. But we are not as needy as some.
I think I should have left with the first cartload and told them to give the other fifty to someone else.
I could have begged off completely.
No one's ever accused me of thinking too fast on my feet.
Don't get me wrong, I'm very thankful. But I still feel like a louse.
______________
On another tack, we've gotten the crew together today for the last of the applesauce-making. It was beginning to smell like a vinegar factory out there in the addition and with all these able hands sitting around at their laptops...
Tweet
posted by Ma Hoyt | 11:29 AM
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