October 17, 1981 - October 17, 2008

From My Own Little Corner Twenty seven years ago, a young girl married her prince charming. The intervening years have been quite a journey. Shortly after they were married, she was diagnosed with cervical cancer, and eventually had to have most of her cervix removed. He was there, holding her hand and telling her everything would work out. He was right. Very soon the couple were expecting their first child. They were very excited and looked forward to the addition to their family. It wasn't to be, and when she lost the boy child, he was there, holding her hand and telling her everything would be okay. Again, he was right. After a few months, she got pregnant again and this time everything went just as expected, with the exception of the morning sickness that just wouldn't go away. When their beautiful daughter was born on August 11, 1983, she had some major problems. Her brain had been severely damaged during the birthing process and the doctors told the young couple that she probably wouldn't live for more than a few days. She defied the odds and did survive. Through the whole nightmare birth, he was there, holding her hand, telling her not to worry, they would get through this together. And they did. They brought their beautiful daughter, Jessica, home at the age of two weeks. She had a seizure disorder,brain damage, and cerebral palsy, but she was home. Through it all they held each other, giving each other strength. In 1984 they decided that they wanted to add to their little family, and on March 28, 1985, they were blessed with a boy named Nathan. He was perfect in every way. There were the usual problems, along with the extra ones, like hospital stays for their daughter, for seizures, pneumonia, learning how to feed her through a tube, and physical therapy. He was always there, holding her hand, a steadying influence, her calm in the storms. Then in 1987, they discovered that once again they were going to be blessed with another child. They moved to a new house and everything seemed to be going well. Then when she was about 4 and 1/2 months pregnant, a routine ultrasound turned their world upside down again. Their baby boy (yep, another one), might not have any kidneys or bladder. They needed more tests. If this was so, there would be some heartbreaking decisions to make. If the boy, already named Jacob, had this terrible defect, then he wouldn't, couldn't live, and his death would be horrific for the tiny baby. After waiting for an appointment, the day finally arrived for the tests. They were scared but as always he was with her and held her hand throughout. They were together when the high definition ultra sound was being performed, and just as they didn't think they could take another minute of not knowing what the outcome was, Jacob peed. There was a mighty cheer from the doctor performing the ultrasound and cries of relief from the couple. They went home to await the birth of their normally developed child, due the end of February. Shortly thereafter, their precious gift, Jessica, got ill once again. She was life flighted out to a children's hospital about an hour from their house. They went to the hospital everyday but Sunday, when they stayed home with their son Nathan. Nathan spent the long days, as he always did when his sister was in the hospital, with his memaw and pepaw. They were his rock in those turbulent times, and his parents will always be grateful that he had such loving caretakers, and that they never had to worry about him. On December 1st, while standing next to her daughter's hospital bed, the woman felt a sudden rush of fluid and knew immediately that something was wrong. She went straight to the hospital and after a thorough check up was told that she was under too much stress and that the baby she carried was okay. She went home, got some sleep and then went back to the routine that was normal when Jessica was in the hospital. On the 19th of December, they went to his parent's house to celebrate Christmas and she felt the first twinges of labor. After getting home later that night, she called the doctor and he suggested that she go to the emergency room. She told hubby to stay home and that she would be back soon. That was not to be. After discovering that there was a leak of amniotic fluid, it was decided that they needed to deliver Jacob now. The mother was frantic. But, as always, he was there, holding her hand, and reassuring her. Jacob was delivered on December 20th, 1987, weighing 3 pounds, 7 ounces, and once again, her husband's reassurances were right on target. Other than needing to gain weight he was fine. He came home the first part of February, his sister Jessica followed shortly thereafter. Then, on February 16th, 1988, their angel, Jessica, died at home. Those days are still a blur for the wife, with the exception of one thing. Her beloved husband was always right there, holding her up, helping her through those awful first few days. Two days after burying their daughter, their newest bundle of joy, Jacob, fell ill. He had RSV pneumonia and doctors didn't think that he would make it. He spent 2 weeks at the children's hospital, part of that time on a respirator, but just as with every other time, her husband was the rock of Gibraltar and as he predicted, everything turned out fine. With the exception of one other serious illness for Jacob, a bout of pneumonia, caused by influenza A virus, things in their life settled down and they raised their boys. Her husband was always there, doing the dishes, cooking, doing laundry, cleaning the bathrooms, and holding her hand when she felt the overwhelming sadness from losing her daughter closing in again. In 1993, the wife was diagnosed with Lupus, an autoimmune disease that can be fatal. It was a terrible blow to the family and meant that the wife would need extra care. Her husband stepped up to the plate and took up all the slack. On February 14th 1998, the husband woke her up to tell her that their house was on fire. They got the boys up, the boys gathered the pets together and ran to the van, turned it on, and got the heater going, while the wife called 911. The fire department came and put the fire out, and saved the house from being completely destroyed. It had started in the garage and spread through the attic. The wife hadn't even heard the fire alarm go off, so now she could add life saver to the list of things that her husband meant to her. The next morning, feeling overwhelmed by the devastation, she stood in the kitchen crying. You already know what the husband's response was. Now she is 49 and he is 57, and as of today they have been married for 27 years. I know that this story seems to be one of hardships and sadness, but to the wife it is a testament to the love that her husband has showered on her for the whole of their marriage, and to his faith in God, which she finally shares. I am that wife and I felt that I needed to tell anyone that reads this blog, that when I say that my husband is my best friend, I mean it. He is my life, my heart, my soul, and without him I wouldn't be here to tell this story. While I know that he will never be able to read this post, I needed to write it. I love him more than words can ever say and I am looking forward to the next 27 years with my wonderful, loving, faithful man.

HAPPY ANNIVERSARY, DAN!