Mother's Day 2014, in my weed-infested rock garden, with all five kids.
Oh so much has happened this week. I had some very bad, grumpy days, set off by the babysitter's last-minute cancellation that kept me from going to a play. I won't tell you who the babysitter was.
On Mother's Day we went to the Swedish Institute in Minneapolis. It's set smack dab in the middle of the new Somali community. The juxtaposition of today's immigrants with the immigrants of 100 years ago is fascinating. I was reminded of the Community Outreach speaker at my daughter's university, who told us that every country in the 10/40 window (the area of the world that is most difficult to reach with the Gospel), is now represented in our Twin Cities community. In other words, the 10/40 window has come to us. This fills me with hope and with shame. I am doing absolutely nothing for these people, and they live right on my doorstep.
I will resolve to pray for them. I can do that.
After going to the Swedish Institute with Nate's mom and our three youngest kids, and snacking on gluten-filled baked goods to tide us over till later, (and not feeding our fine little mother and grandma a single bite, since she's gluten-free) we breezed through Costco and then came home.
My terrible mood was slowly starting to improve, since I adore being with all my children. We watched Mick trundle through the grass, holding onto the football (but not throwing it), and dissolving in giggles when his big brothers jumped over him.
As Krista (Caleb's fiance) and I sat in our comfy chairs and watched the guys play basketball, and listened to the happy voices all around us, suddenly my husband fell onto the court and started to holler and yell (and swear, just a bit). "My knee, my knee," he shouted, clutching at his left leg. Caleb ran to the house for an Ace bandage, Isaac got the van backed up to the court, and within minutes we were loading Nate into the van for a drive to Urgent Care.
The patellar ligament tore. That's the ligament that holds the kneecap in place. The kneecap is now floating several inches above where it's supposed to be.
Nate is the sole supporter here, and his work is carpentry. So this is scary.
The funny thing is, my attitude now is much better than it was five days ago. This makes no sense at all. I feel terrible for my husband (he's not in much pain, but he's bored beyond belief). But I should be way more afraid and way more off-kilter.
The panic may strike later. In the mean time, Julia comes home from college on Friday, can I get an hallelujah? She is a marketing major, and maybe she can help us market these beauties. Feel free to share, we think somebody out there needs a piano bar. We just haven't found that person yet.
Nate has his MRI today and surgery as soon as possible. Thank you to all who are praying, we can tell you are lifting us up. Recovery time is typically about three months, with six months till the knee functions completely normally. Our hope is that he'll be able to work again in about two months.