Monday, January 24, 2011

Love is a Verb

I witnessed love in action on our pre-Christmas family vacation. My three year old grandson was sent up to be with us so that he wouldn't miss out on the vacation with his cousins and so that we could help ease the burden on his mommy at home. (His daddy became very ill, and ended up needing to have surgery.)

On the afternoon the little guy arrived he was full of energy. He was dancing with his cousins, up and down the stairs, played in the snow, and so happy to finally be on the long anticipated family vacation.

I made beds for he and his older brother in my room. Everyone had just dozed off when the three year old awoke and threw up all over his bedding and himself. I cleaned up bedding and the little guy two more times throughout the night.

I was hoping that was it but the days and nights that followed was filled with more of the same. 

There he was miles and miles away from his
 mommy and daddy and he was sick.

He asked for a washcloth, I gave it to him,
he held it close, and it comforted him.

He was very quiet, he did not complain, he did not cry.

His older brother checked on him frequently 
to see if there was anything he needed.

His girl cousin who is six was very compassionate towards him. 
She checked on him and sat and talked to him several times each day.

He would eat but we had to be prepared for it to come back up.

His aunts shared their encouragement, love, and the 
sweet tender care they would for their own sick children.

His uncles and all of his cousins did the same. On one of the days
his uncle bravely invited him to go for a ride with him
in his truck so he could get out of the house for a while.

Papa and I did all we could to help keep him comfortable.

One evening while the rest of the cousins 
were being read a Christmas story I was 
holding the poor little guy on my lap.

Without notice, I was covered
 in vomit and so was he.

My daughters flew into action.
One grabbed the little guy and 
whisked him off for a bath.
 Another went for cleaning supplies
to clean up the floor and chair.

I was sent to the showers!

In that moment as I sat covered in vomit
my heart was filled with
gratitude for my family members
and for the countless unselfish acts of love
and service that we are so blessed with
in our family.

There was absolutely no hesitation 
to be on the front lines of caring
for our little loved one.

Thankfully, no one else  got
sick while we were there.

Late afternoon on Christmas day it
caught me!

I experienced just how quick the onset
was of this particular stomach bug.

Within minutes I was aching from what
seemed to be the middle of my bones to
every square inch of my skin.

I went home, climbed in bed, and stayed there. 
I too stayed very still because it hurt to move.
My thoughts turned to my little grandson and the aches
and pains that he must have suffered.

Unlike him, I did complain and I did cry a bit.

My "wet washcloth" was a warm and cuddly
flannel tied quilt made for me by my mother.


  1. Oh that poor little guy. He sounds so brave. And poor you. It was so nice to read how your family all pulls together in time of need. How blessed you must feel. :)

  2. Your words bring back graphic memories!

    Your little grandson is a very brave, special little boy. How blessed you are to have such a loving family. I hope that you, and he, are fully recovered now.