Three friends. Three things each are going through.
If you are having a bad day, just ask any of them how they’re doing.
Take my friends Kyle and Jill. Today they got to bring their baby home from the hospital.
After 15 months.
To say little Elin was born prematurely would be an understatement. Her due date was supposed to be September 9, 2021. But Jill, Elin’s mom, found herself in the hospital almost four months earlier.
On May 22, Elin was born, weighing in at a whopping 13.1 oz.
After 9 surgeries, and, by her mom’s account, over 260 lbs of candy brought to the NICU nurses, Elin finally came home. Though the family is happy to be all together, Elin still needs round the clock care to help manage her breathing tube.
Now, for my friend Monica. Born in Texas but found herself in middle Minnesota, married to her husband, whom she met when he was stationed in Dallas.
When her parents got to be too much for her brothers to take care of in Texas, Monica and her husband made the difficult and laborious decision to move her parents to Minnesota. They purchased a house that was set up to accommodate the parents’ physical limitations.
Fast forward four years and Monica’s beloved father passed away at age 90. Mom is still living, but it’s tough. There’s a ton of history and bad blood between Monica and her mom, which often manifests itself through rude and condescending jabs from the mother. She also doesn’t miss an opportunity to make life difficult for Monica, her husband, and their three college-aged children.
Then there’s Tammy, a friend of mine since high school. She was an only child who found herself an adult orphan at age 43.
Recently, Tammy has been posting a lot of old photos she’s found on Facebook. In one picture, she remarked how she always found it odd that her mother got married in a red dress.
Today, she got an explanation.
Tammy was having lunch with Mavis, her mother’s best friend, who revealed her mother had been married to another man before she wedded Tammy’s father.
The man, it turns out, had an incredibly violent past. After they eventually (and thankfully) divorced, Tammy’s mom never spoke of him again.
Today I sit here on my computer, no breathing tube needed, my parents of sound mind and body in their apartment not far from my home, and life-changing secrets still comfortably hidden away.
49 and Counting 