The Unanticipated

When you decide to move 8,000 miles away from your family, you have to anticipate that you will miss things.

Before we left the States (exactly one year ago tomorrow), I knew that it was financially unlikely that I would set foot on American soil again during our three and a half years in Dresden. I mentally prepared myself to miss my youngest brother's LDS mission send-off, and I told my other brother, Ford, who will be 23 next month, that, should he meet the right girl and feel so inclined, he should not postpone a wedding for me. He said I had nothing to worry about, and from the vague reports I receive regarding his romantic exploits, I think that promise is holding.

We also had to prepare for death. As morbid as it sounds, Jake and I had to make peace with the distinct possibility that when we kissed our grandparents goodbye, it could be for the last time. That possibility has already become reality for us once, with the passing of Jake's beautiful grandmother last winter.

It hasn't been easy being absentees in the lives of the people we love, but it has been tolerable. Until now, nothing has happened that we didn't anticipate.

We didn't anticipate this.


Last Friday, July 4, my mom was in an accident. She and my dad were four-wheeling — their apparent favorite past time as empty-nesters — in Wyoming, when Mom attempted to turn her machine around on a precarious patch of trail and rolled it. By the time her spill was complete, she was pinned beneath the four-wheeler in a stream with several broken ribs, a broken ankle and (the worst of her injuries) a pelvis broken in four or five different places. My dad managed to get the four-wheeler off her, and she, despite spectacular pain, managed to pull herself out of the stream. Naturally, they were 30 miles from the main road, and cell phone reception was null. Fortunately, my dad found a ranger camp with a radio nearby and help soon arrived.

My mom was gingerly hauled to a small hospital in Jackson, Wyo., where she was checked into the ICU. She just left the ICU, but as far as I know, has yet to leave her bed or eat solid food. She goes in today for surgery on her ankle. My dad has been sleeping in their camper in the hospital's parking lot. They don't know yet when my mom will be stable enough to be shipped back to Idaho Falls, where my folks live, but when they do, Mom most certainly won't be going home. She's currently staring down the barrel of a long and painful rehabilitation that could last up to 6 months. She will make a full recovery, they're saying, (thank God) but it will be rough.

Meanwhile, I'm in Germany. Gnawing on my own insides.



JEM

P.S. Thanks so much to friends and family who may be reading this who have visited and checked up on my sweet mom. It's so comforting for me to know there are people caring for and looking out for my parents. I owe you all a lot.