Home Is Where The Heart Is

Leaving through the hospital doors with my arm around Lynnette was breath taking. Was I anxious to get home? I still don’t know. Shock is the word I might use. I could not believe I was going home.

Picture: (Top- Becki was one of the many nurses who cared for me. I loved each nurse who dealt with the old man in the kid's hospital.)

Primary Children’s Medical Center had become my home and family. Leaving them behind was an interesting emotion. Of course, patients continue to cycle through their care.

Whatever joyous celebration we experienced in my recovery, the nurses caring for me signed off their responsibility and went back to work caring for the many sick children still fighting for their future. And yet, there is not much public recognition for these quiet and faithful employees who bless so many lives.

After picking sweet Eden up from a cousin’s home we drove up our street noticing the many pink and red heart shaped balloons my sister Carol had placed all over our front yard on trees and bushes. I was proud to know our neighbors knew this was a great day in our lives.

Picture: (Middle- Barb Wright began caring for me in 1975. She has helped thousands of cardiac kids in the EKG lab at Primary Children's Medical Center)

Our neighbors had mowed the lawn and trimmed everything. They even picked the tomatoes they had planted in a garden they helped create many months ago. I had told Lynnette I was looking forward to eating those tomatoes not knowing if that would really happen.

I expected to be home shortly before Thanksgiving or Christmas. My anatomy and symptoms were beyond anyone’s true comprehension. And we planned for the worse while trusting in God and his ability to orchestrate the events of our lives.

We have a quiet home on a peaceful street. Walking through our front door and observing the blessings poured out upon us from all our hard work over the years was humbling. Peace permeates the small rooms and strength fills the walls. I attribute this to Lynnette and her divine nature. She's created something beautiful.

This has been our refuge. We've had many challenges and decisions to make therein which would effect our future. There will be roads to take, and mountains to climb in our future. Amidst our future joy, celebration, and happiness, we will face heart-ache, pain, and grief. However, I find great comfort in knowing the God of Heaven is a loving and kind Father who will help guide us as we seek Him out. I'm reminded of these words from Harold B. Lee, “The most important work you and I will ever do will be within the walls of our own home.” Our souls will stretch and our wisdom will increase from our experiences and we will be that much more prepared to strengthen others who are going through hard times.

And might I add, if you are not a religious person or doubtful of such strong statements I make about God I encourage you to cling to goodness and those who want to be good. Serve them and befriend them. They will lift you. They will buoy you up when life gets dark and challenging. It is through their goodness that you will feel the literal arms of God around you.

Picture: (Bottom Right- Back home with the family)

Spending a quiet evening at home with my daughter and Lynnette was something special and nostalgic. I think Eden went through 4-5 outfits until we were able to get her off to a ballet/tap dance class in her cute pink tutu. Of course, she kept touching my chest to feel my heart. And from time to time with a vulnerable sweet smile she’d ask, “Dad, hold my hand?”

And now more than ever I know home is where the heart is. And with tears of gratitude in my heart I know I’m home to stay.

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As much as I enjoy maintaining livingforeden.com there will be one more entry and a short video of our journey. Then this blog will be closed until after the holidays. I’ll be spending time with family, compiling my message into a book, and preparing for a long journey ahead advocating the growing needs and education of those living with congenital heart disease, as well as organ donation.

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