Life Takes A Turn

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     I have been MIA for the last month. It has been very hard to get back in the swing of blogging. Not only have I been at a loss for how to write this post, but also, there has been so much going on I can barely sit down to write. Life has definitely taken a turn for us. 
     So where do I begin?
     March 6th, I got a text from a friend asking if we still had that old S10 Blazer. 
"Yes, we do." I reply back. 
"My husband said he was driving down HWY 19 and thought he saw it being loaded onto the back of a wrecker. It was in an accident. Maybe it was not Mike's." 
     1993 S10 Blazers are still quite common in this area, but I called the house immediately. No answer. I had 15 minutes before it was my lunch time. I called my neighbor asking if she had seen Mike drive in from work. She had not noticed, but she would get up and get dressed to walk down there. I asked the girls down in the nursery area to pray that if it was my husband, he was going to be alright. 
     Lunch came, and I called the house again with no answer. The neighbor said she was walking out the door to go look. As I clocked out, I told a co-worker I was not sure what I was going to do. Should I just wait and see if he calls me back and go run my errands? Do I run home and see if he is just out in the yard? Or do I start calling the hospital? I am the type NOT to worry about the tornado until it is hitting the house. However, in my head, I am hearing the emergency sirens going off in my head... As I look down at Zoey, I see the same fear in her eyes as she tries to smile back at me. I put my arm around her as we walk out of the building. 
     We had not gotten half way to my truck when I got the phone call from the police department. I know the number well. I froze and pulled Zoey to me. Instead of saying hello, I asked, "Where is he and is he alright?" Confused, the officer introduced himself. "Is this Mike Flemens Wife?" 
"Yes, it is. I have heard, is he alright?"
"No, ma'am, he is not. He is being care flighted to Parkland Hospital in Dallas." 
     Scariest moment of my life was going back into that building with my daughter in tow to write down the number to the hospital. I thanked the officer and immediately called my mother. My boss and a couple of the girls I work with looked on as I called my mother to ask her to drive me. I was shaking so bad I could barely stand. I just held my daughter tightly. 
     As I waited for my mother to get there, my boss and her husband (my preacher) held our hands in a prayer circle. When he finished the prayer, I said, "Thy will be done." Instantly I was calmed. My mother came and we began the 90 minute journey to the hospital. Friends and family pitched in to let everyone know what had happened; prayer chains were started. 
     The whole ride, I was calling the hospital. Mike and his ID did not make it there at the same time. The had no idea who my husband was. Back in our town, my brother in law was talking to the emergency workers that were on the scene of the accident. They assured him he was at Parkland and last heard, Mike was in X-ray. We had reached the hospital by the time one of the workers called me to let me know they had located my husband.
     Mom and Zoey parked the car as I went straight to the Trauma floor to see him. He was being sedated for becoming combative while they were trying to work on him. He had tubes and wires connected to him, barely any scrapes or bleeding. The doctor explained he had some bleeding on the brain, and several areas of his left side received broken bones. His scapula (shoulder blade) was broken into 3 pieces, his pelvis was fractured in 2 different places and he had several broken ribs. The bleeding on his brain was mild and was from broken blood vessels rather than from several blunt force trauma. I praised God with a smile on my face. I am sure the nurses and doctors thought I was suffering from some sort of shock, but My husband was alive! The man I loved and who loved me back with his whole heart, the father of my children, my best friend, the man that always pushed me to be better and believed in me was ALIVE by the grace of God. I knew all else would work out in the end. 
     I brought Zoey in to the trauma unit so she could see her daddy. We smiled to each other, held his hand, kissed him and whispered prayers of thanks to the Lord. I took her back to my mother after talk of waking him up.          
     They began talking him off of sedation. I held his hand and talked to him along with the doctors until he was finally awake. He was disoriented and confused. When he was finally (somewhat) fully awake, the doctors were pleased and sent him to a private room. We were blessed with being able to stay with him. 
     My sister and brother in law were there and brought Zoey and I clothing and personal items from our house. We prepared to stay in the hospital for as long as it took for him to recover enough to come home. My mom wanted to take Zoey with her, but my side kick was where she needed to be. She, nor I, would have it any other way. My brother came and gave me money to help with what ever we needed. I didn't have to worry about how I was going to feed us. The nursing staff said we were welcome to sleep in the extra bed in the room. My brother stayed at a friends house that was local to him. This all happened on Friday, Day 1.

Day 2: While in a good bit of pain, Mike tolerated the pain well but slept through most of it. We had several calls and texts sending prayers and well wishes. Our families kept Facebook updated on his progress. My son was finally located, but not having a vehicle kept him from coming right away. I had never heard fear in his voice like I did when he called me. I assured him his father was going to be okay. While Mike slept, I took Zoey to get a late breakfast. She witnessed her first homeless man when we ventured outside of the hospital. (Small town children live sheltered lives.) His dad, aunt and cousin came. My brother came back to pick Zoey and I up to go to Walmart for some supplies. By that night, Mike was becoming more coherent. The pain med fog started to lift. So many different Doctors in the last few days, it is even hard for me to keep them straight.

Day 3: Mike's mom, brother and our son, Alex, came up to see him, along with several others. Mike is barely taking any pain meds. As long as he is still, there is minimal pain. Not being able to turn onto his side is the worst part. That is the way he sleeps. His arm and pelvis are a little more mobile. Doctors and nurses agree he is still recovering miraculously! Mike's anxiety is very high. He is ready to go home. He has hospital issues to begin with, coupled with being an 'outdoor' kind of guy and being immobile is starting to get to him.

Day 4: The physical therapist came to see if Mike could get around in a wheel chair. He handles it like a champ. A friend of mine came and brought us bags of lunch and visited us for a while. When I was walking her out of the hospital, Mike decided he needed a private moment in the bathroom. He used Zoey as a crutch to get there. Managed his business and was planning on using Zoey again to get to the bed, however, he fell on the way back. X-ray's showed no additional damage. He is released by Doctors to have assistance from the nurse and either me or our son. I talk with his Trauma doctor on getting him released soon. She says, "Other than the broken bones, we have no other reason to keep him. We would like him to have 6 weeks of physical therapy though." I talk to her about doing physical therapy at home vs. the hospital. My husband is a home body and I am afraid he will push himself to hard at the hospital to prove he can go home. We have a strong family support system which includes nurses and pt specialists. My mother also works at a rehab center just in case we need it. Our house is set up to where it can be easily cleared out so he has room to move and maneuver with out risk of falling. My son will be moving back home to help out as well. The doctor says she will talk to his physical therapist. If she okays him to go home, she will release him tomorrow. 

Day 5: The Physical Therapist came to talk with us. She knows he has been walking to the bathroom with assistance, and brings a crutch, cane and an A-frame walking device. He chooses the crutch to begin with. He walks with it so well, they decide to switch him over to a cane before Mike can reach the door. He moves fairly well, walks a good distance, and even tackles a small flight of stairs. His PT lady is quite impressed and releases him from any more PT. The Occupational Therapist says not so happy about the whole thing. Thought his brain damage needed some more work. I tried to explain to her that the doctors had not mentioned anything about brain damage and my husband was acting perfectly normal now he was not taking many pain meds. She is not convinced, but are released by the Trauma doctor anyways and are on our way home by 6:30 that night. 

     It has now been a month since my husbands accident. He is walking around with minimal assistance from the cane. By no means is he 100% or even close, however, he is still my walking miracle. Now at this point, you might be wondering what happened, how did the accident happen? All I can tell you is, he was T-Boned turning onto the highway that takes him home. The other driver was just shaken up a bit. The teenager that hit him, also happens to be a friend of my son. He said he saw my husband stop at the red light so he proceeded through, then, suddenly Mike pulled out. Mike's truck was T-boned at 60 miles an hour. My husband remembers he had gone to the store after work, he bought a few things for the house, loaded up his truck and started home. Walmart is 2 minutes from where the accident occurred. There has been speculation on why my husband would pull out into on coming traffic. Either way, it has been deemed his fault for pulling into an intersection that had not been cleared. 

     All I know is, my husband is alive and is recovering at an amazing rate. In all honestly, when I got the call, I thought he was dead, or close. You do not get care flighted by helicopter for a minor bump on your head and a few broken bones. I really believe God hears prayers and reversed this for us. We are fully blessed. 
     

So that is the beginning of where I have been. 

Life decided to take a turn on us.. 

      

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Things I Learned From My Grandparents (and didn't even know I was learning)

 

 

   Some of the best memories I have as a child, were my summers with my grandparents on their homestead. They had a little plot of land up in Chihuahua Valley, in the San Jacinto Mountains. They cleared the land, built their house, and prepped for winter. Always improving, always amending always preserving. As a child, I didn't realize that was what they were doing, all I knew was that at Grandpa and Grandma's house, things were wonderfully different. More natural, more like what what I read in my 'Little House' books.
     Instead of a back yard, they had a strawberry garden. It was on a an incline, but there were rows and rows of strawberries. One year, while I was hunting for strawberries, I ran my hands over the plants and screamed. There was a large snake hiding under the strawberry plants. I ran to my grandpa to tell him. He got a shovel and went over to get rid of the snake. However, when he got over there, the snake turned out to be the garden hose. We all got a good laugh out of it.
     There was a large garden in the back of the property. Grandpa was always in the garden hoeing, planting, tilling, weeding, and/or raking. He worked from sun up to dinner time. Sometimes we would help him. My brother and I would go out with grandpa early in the morning and pick vegetables with him. He had the most amazing tomatoes in all shapes and sizes. We would munch on small yellow and cherry tomatoes as we picked. There were rows of beans and and purple hull peas. We picked okra that my grandma fried up fresh and froze the rest. When we were finished, I would sit on the back porch with Grandma and snap beans. Every once in a while, I would pop a fresh bean into my mouth. 
    Grandma also had cans with herbs growing in coffee cans on the back of the house. We nibbled on fresh mint while we played on the grass. It made our mouths feel cool and fresh. Every once in a while, Grandma would ask us to pick some of the herbs. We watched as she cleaned them and then laid them on a cookie sheet lined with paper towels to dry. 
     Grandpa had a snake in the wood pile we called his 'pet.' Every morning grandpa would go out to the woodpile he was greeted by a scarlet king snake. It never harmed anything and my grandpa told us that the snake helped to keep those pesky rodents away. Grandpa would talk to the snake as if it was his friend. Not all snakes were his friends though. One day my cousins, brother and I were walking past the propane tank and Grandpa was coming towards us on his way to his neighbors property. He turned suddenly and walked over to his gardening shed at a brisk pace. We were already at the house when we noticed Grandpa going back towards the propane tank with a shovel. Suddenly, Grandpa was striking at something on the ground. We ran over to see what was happening. Grandpa hollered to "Stay Back!" It was a rattlesnake! AND we had just walked past there and never saw it! Grandpa killed it effortlessly. When he severed the head, we came in a bit closer. Grandpa cautioned us to not get to close and explained when a snake dies, it can still hurt you. He held the shovel up to the snakes mouth. We all gasped as the snake bit at the shovel. Grandpa moved the shovel to the body and the body STOOD up and tried to strike at the shovel even though it had NO HEAD! Although it had no eyes, it followed the movements of the shovel perfectly. We marveled at the snakes body as it continued to move after being decapitated. It seemed like it took forever to stop wiggling along the ground. We paid more attention from now on while walking around the property. 
     When we came into the house from outside, the back door led to the utility room. We had to be quick on the ins and outs so flies could not come in and the air conditioning could not get out. We were not allowed to keep coming in and out either. Once outside you stayed out side for a while. Coming in had the same rule. Grandma explained this helped to keep their electric bill down. We had to leave our shoes by the back door to keep the dust and dirt out of the rest of the house. In the utility room, Grandma always keep an ice cold water jug for us. We could drink as much as we wanted, but you better make sure you did not waste any. It was from the well and we didn't need the well running dry. On the washer and dryer was usually homemade raspberry gobbler from the berries we collected for Grandma. It was one of the best things I have ever put in my mouth. 
     

     
     I loved watching my grandmother sew and mend clothes. She made nearly all of her clothes. It was almost like magic when she made skirts and shirts, curtains out of thin pieces of paper, pins and fabric. After cutting her patterns out, the neatly folded them back up and placed them back in their packaging, to be used at a later time. I watched silently as her sewing machine quickly and easily joined the fabrics. My Grandma crocheted as well. She taught me how to make chains and simple crochet loops. I would play with my long piece of yarn over and over, practicing until I could get my links and chains just right. I couldn't have whole ball of yarn until I mastered the beginning stages of crocheting; yarn could not be wasted. 
       I slept in the spare bedroom on a sleeper couch. The room doubled as Grandma's sewing/craft room and her extended pantry. There was one wall that had built in shelves lined with items my grandma had canned. Rows upon rows of the most amazing looking food items. Jams, jellies, relishes, vegetables, fruits, and meats. Chow-chow was one of my grandmother's specialties. Oh, how I hated chow-chow as a child. Now I plan on making it one day so I can try it again. She made the best dill pickles. Fresh dill flower heads graced the jar. I tried eating one once, it was horrible, and I couldn't figure out why on earth someone would put a weed in with the glorious pickles. I never saw my grandma can, but I did get to watch her make jelly out of the fresh strawberries from their patch. It seemed like a lot of work, but the jelly was well worth it! I always wondered why just two people would need all of that food. There were so many of them! At night I would lay there and look at the wall of jars, counting them by the moonlight until I fell asleep. 
     For the longest time, I wondered why most of my memories with my grandparents seemed to center around food. It was not until I started my own homesteading journey that I realized why. They lived on a fixed income, Grandpa's retirement. Everything the did around the mountain property was to prepare for everyday life. From food preservation, to chopping wood, to recycling, reusing, re-purposing, DIY, it was all about survival. Not in the sense of what people think of prepping and survivalist skills now. This was day to day, what they learned from their parents, this was natural for them. 

     By watching them and joining them in their everyday tasks. I learned. I didn't realize it at the time, but I was learning from them. Everything that I watched and did as a child has become so 'natural' for me now. Even though I never actually was taught how to sew, I 'naturally' knew how to. I say I was self taught, but in essence, watching my grandmother sew, taught me how. I am also a natural gardener, saver, recycling/re-purposing, homesteading, DIY, make your budget stretch type of person. I wish my grandparents were still with us today. I would make sure I asked the questions I missed being able to ask them when I was young. At least I have my memories. These are memories I want for my children. I want the ability to take care of their families to be 'natural' for them. Children mimic and take on the habits of those they are around. I hope to pass on to my children what my grandparents pass on to me. 

The pictures in this post are not of me and my brother. They are of my cousins, Erin and Garrett. Their mother was a lot better at preserving memories through photography than my family was. Thank you Erin and Garrett, for finding these photos for me. Love you!