Life Interrupted.

The past week has been one big nebulous blur. It's hazy, it's foggy, it's cloudy & I have yet to calm the stirring within me enough to process all that the past seven days have encompassed. On one hand I feel like last Tuesday was an eternity ago & that my mind will forever grapple to retrieve some of the events that took place. Yet on the other hand, there are moments that step out from amongst the fog & are so real, so vivid, so crystal clear & alive in my mind that they replay themselves over & over again as if they happened just yesterday.

Pellucid moments like the one where I picked up my phone last Tuesday to realize I had two missed calls from my brother & a text message from my dad that read,
Call me as soon as you get this message. 
I'll never forget the lump in my throat that formed instantaneously. I wanted to turn my phone over. My heart told me to ignore it. I wanted to deny the fact that something bad was happening. I wanted to pretend that I didn't know exactly who it was happening to. I simply wanted life to resume & not ever know the dreaded answer that waited on the other end of the line.

{Insert blur}

Vivid moments like the one where I strained to understand the words in my brother's trembling, shaking, desperate voice as he explained through the phone that our mom was having a heart attack & being loaded onto a helicopter to be Life Flighted. Life Flighted. I found myself fighting my own trembling as I became stern in my voice & demanded my brother to get it together & be strong for our mom. And then I myself crumbled to pieces just as soon as our call came to an end.

{More blur}

Distinct moments like the one where my best friend sat next to me on my couch, her arms wrapped around me, giving me strength that I so desperately needed in that moment. The good Lord knew that I would need a source of comfort with me when that news came through & I am still thanking Him for that Tuesday morning playdate.

{Fog}

Definitive moments like the one in the hospital waiting room when it hit me like a ton of bricks that there was a chance for earth shattering news to come walking through those waiting room doors.

The relief that came over me when the doctor walked in with a smile on his face.

{Haze}

Unclouded moments like the one my mom & I shared, hand in hand, just the two of us in her hospital room. Tears fell as we shared our hearts, talked about how far our relationship has come in the past year, the miracle that God has worked in restoring & redeeming the mother/daughter relationship we were meant to have in this lifetime & the shame it would be to have come this far in our blossoming relationship only to have it ripped from us. We mourned at the thought of Jett growing up without the infinite love from his "Ma-maw". What would he do without those phone calls every single day checking in to see what he's up to, what new things he's saying, what kind of trouble he's giving his momma, when his next doctor's appointment is...etc...etc...etc? Who would would care to know every single detail of his life the way she so desires to? There isn't a soul on this earth that could replace "Ma-maw". There isn't a soul on this earth that could replace my mother.

{Cloudiness}

And that's how this past week has continued to go. Details that are sketchy & scattered, sprinkled with profound moments which are vibrant & clear. It's much like a dream. Only it's not a dream at all. The pieces are real, are raw, are truer than true.

"Live life to the fullest."
"Never take a single moment for granted."
"Live today, for tomorrow is not promised."
"Say what you need to say."

The list goes on & on.

I'm here to tell you, until a life that you value so dearly is just a second from slipping away, these endless quotes are just words on paper. Their impact comes from experiencing their meaning. And my, have we experienced their meaning-- probably more than we are even able to realize at this point.

Our lives have been interrupted. Every single emotion on the spectrum has been tapped & we have tasted of a bitterness & of a sweetness that had until this point in our lives, remained unawakened. We have learned firsthand just how fragile this life is & we have come face to face with what our Lord means when he tells us that our time here on this earth is but a vapor. We have felt the pang of hurt that comes along with the mere thought of losing somebody we love so much & we have come to the realization that even another second of breath in our lungs is a gift. We have gained a thankfulness for the lives God has given to us & we have formed a heart of gratitude for another day that we get to wake up & tell our loved ones what they mean to us. We have a value for life that is deepened & broadened more now than ever before.

A life interrupted forces your eyes to open, forces places of your heart to be revealed, forces growth in ways you didn't know you could be stretched. A life interrupted is uncomfortable, is life changing, & is sometimes just exactly what you need to come along & shake you up.

The past week with all its blurriness & fuzziness was a doozy & I have to say I am glad to be setting it all aside for awhile. This week we'll focus our eyes on the celebration of life. We'll celebrate second chances & second birthdays. We'll look around the room at Meatball's big birthday bash on Saturday afternoon & be thankful for a "Ma-maw" amongst the crowd who gets to watch her grandson turn two & we'll praise the Lord for a little boy who fills up our hearts with the sprite of life. We'll laugh & love & will take not a single moment for granted. We will embrace the numbered days we've been given with one another & the memories we walk away with will be truly treasured ones. And I hope we always continue to live our lives this way.

But I also hope that we never set aside the lessons that have been learned, the lessons that continue to manifest daily out of the fog, the lessons that came about from that hazy week where life was interrupted.

Having fun with Grandma's hospital bed. He only pushed the CALL NURSE button three times.