Thanksgiving morning.

Last year, we started a tradition on Thanksgiving morning. A balloon release in memory of our loved ones. Nothing too fancy, really.

We sit. We talk. We give thanks. We remember. With intention.

Who were they? What was special about them? What was funny about them? And any other questions they might have. 

We remember Harry's father. Also known as "Granddaddy-in-heaven." He was a great father. Harry said that no matter what anybody ever said, he always knew his father loved him. He didn't like people messing with his car or kids playing near it. That was a funny thing about him. He loved children and would have loved his grandsons. Yes, it makes Daddy sad that he didn't get to play with them. But Harry also says that before his father passed away, he had already taught him all he needed to know about being a man.

Granddaddy-in-heaven made his transition early in the morning on December 20, 1992 -- Harry's twenty-second birthday.

We remember C.J. Short for Cedric Jr. Everywhere he went, people marveled at how smart he was. His daddy has a big Harley Davidson hog and C.J. had a mini-hog just like Uncle Ced. C.J. loved to shake his booty to the theme song to Madagascar 2-- "I like to Move it-Move it." The kids are comforted in knowing that Auntie will get to help take care of him just like she took care of them.

C.J. left us four years ago today on November 23, 2008.  We will always, always remember to never forget his precious life.

We remember Auntie Deanna. Also known as simply "Auntie." It was hard to do a lot of talking. But we just hugged and talked and let ourselves feel thankful for her. She was funny when playing board games with the boys. Very. In fact, she never let any kid win a game just because they're a kid. Nope. Not Auntie. She was proud of all of us--and had this special way of making us all feel proud of ourselves.

Today marks one week since Auntie was called to heaven. Isaiah said he was glad that we started this tradition last year. I agreed and said that love should be intentional and remembering sometimes has to be deliberate. Especially as time passes. Then I explained that all that means is that you have to do stuff on purpose and not just wait for it to happen sometimes.

They got it. Especially Isaiah.

This image simultaneously broke and touched my heart. Oh, that Isaiah. That boy loved his Auntie. Both boys did. But, see, Deanna understood my Isaiah in a way that few do. She knew how to encourage him like no other and had this magical way of bringing out the best in him. She did.

I pray that he holds onto these lessons and carries them into manhood. Just like Harry did with his father.

Auntie's balloon had to be red. "'Cause that's her favorite color," Zachary insisted. And the boys also decided that they each wanted their own "Auntie balloon." I had no problem with that. The others got pink balloons since Dollar Tree was out of white stars. (Isaiah said not to let it happen again since he is sure that C.J. won't be so happy about a pink heart balloon!)

We also had balloons to release for Harry's and my grandparents that passed before they were born. And this year we got a balloon for our friend, Mrs. Reed's son, Mac. Because we love her and since we do, we love and remember him, too.

Up they went. Toward the heavens. Up, up, and away. (One close call with a tree, but fortunately it finally got out of there.)

Yes. Doing it this year was kind of hard. And no. We cannot release the acute pain we all feel this year. But we will love and remember with such intention that we won't release their memory. No, we will not. And my guess is that eventually it will be less and less painful. And maybe not painless. Just less painful.

I hope.

Oh. I was proud today when Isaiah was playing one of his favorite video games called "Scribblenauts" -- and showed me this character he'd created.

"It's Auntie," he said with a smile. "I was just thinking about her so I made her a superhero angel."

And I smiled at him and replied, "It's perfect, son." Because it was.


Even in the midst of all of this, he is learning that it's okay to remember. And what's better is that he's doing it his way -- and on purpose.

Yeah.

The seasons will change. The clocks will tick-tock and the earth will revolve. All while hearts are breaking and trying to mend in those quiet moments nestled inside of other lives going on. This is why we promise to always stop, pause, and surrender to love.

Last year I had no idea how meaningful this balloon release would mean to us just three hundred sixty five days later. No, I didn't. Isn't it funny how sometimes you think you're doing something for someone else, never realizing that it was really for you? Or just as much for you as it was them?

I don't know.

So, yeah. We started out our Thanksgiving this year exactly like we did last year. By releasing balloons into the heavens in remembrance of those who've gone home before us. And this year--more than ever--something about watching those hearts flying high in the sky lifted all of ours.

I felt really thankful for that.

***
Happy Day-after-Thanksgiving.

Now playing on my mental iPod--this one's for you, C.J.!

Installment #1, Thanksgiving Edition: WILD OUT!

Well. 

I asked you to "wild out" if you love Deanna -- or if you love somebody period -- and boy, did you deliver! Man!

You puckered, mean-mugged, crossed eyes, you tongue-wagged and even did some things that I can't quite figure out how to describe. You did this on the west coast, the east coast, in the deepest parts of the south and the coldest parts of the northern U.S.  Yes!

Man. You guys are silly.

And really y'all -- how can you not smile when you're receiving pictures like these and knowing the impetus behind them? How can you not grin from ear to ear when you're thinking about someone special and then just. . . WILDING OUT! (Yes "wilding" can be a verb, thank you very much.) It feels good to do that, doesn't it?

The best part is. . . Some of you who sent these photos, I know personally. But quite a few, I do not--which makes this even better and makes me even happier. Deanna would have loved this--the sheer ridiculousness of it all. Plus, she was always "wilding" out. So it's quite fitting.

I know y'all have been thinking of us today. And I'd be lying if I said it hasn't been tough, but seeing your faces has helped with us remembering to be more glad than sad. For real.

Okay. You ready?

One-two-three. . . .WILD OUT if you love Deanna and/or if you love somebody -- and especially if you're thankful!

My guess is that you and your silly faces are going to make my parents smile today, too.  And that? That's something to be thankful for--and something to wild out about!

***
Happy Thanksgiving. And thanks.

So not fair.

Schedule is in. November wards. Thanksgiving month. A big family month. At least in his family. But this year, not so much. Because of that schedule. On the wards. At Grady, no less. Damn. Not fair. So not fair.

Call schedule is posted on line. "Just check and see," his wife said. Too scared to even look. Just got married at the end of medical school. First Thanksgiving in this city away from immediate family and also first Thanksgiving with new immediate family--his wife. She nudges more. "Just check. And see."

He checks. He sees.

Damn.

Thanksgiving day ------> Long call.

This was before the no overnight rules for interns so this meant one thing. This meant no Thanksgiving. At least not for real Thanksgiving. Not fair. So not fair.

"I'll come to the hospital and have a meal with you in the cafeteria, okay?" his wife offered.

He decided that this was better than nothing.

Thanksgiving day. Busy, busy, busy.  Someone ate too much gravy and shook too much salt. Heart failure exacerbation. Another person forgot to get their blood pressure medications. Hypertensive emergency. One young guy couldn't say no to pecan pie. This wouldn't be such a big deal if he didn't have insulin-dependent diabetes. That admission was a doozy--diabetic ketoacidosis. One step away from what the Grady elders call being in "the diabetic coma."

"Is now good?" his wife asked.

"No. Not now. I'm getting bombed."

"Okay," she answered warmly. "I'll call you in an hour."

And she did. And it still wasn't good. So she called two more times and finally decided that this night just would not be good for quaint cafeteria dining. Visions of toasting with paper Coca-cola cups and gazing into his eyes over mystery hash faded away.

Not fair. So not fair.

"I am downstairs," she said in the most cheerful voice she could muster. "I have a plate for you. All of the classics. Everything you love."

And he scampered down the stairwell and out to the hospital entrance where his bride stood wrapped in one of his college sweatshirts over her nice sweater-dress. She extended her arms with this special offering--a plate of homecooked food.

He peeked under the foil. All of the trimmings and all of the trappings. And dessert on the side.

He hugged her tight and silenced his beeping pager. "I'm so sorry," he spoke softly. She kissed him on his scruffy cheek and scurried back to the car.

Not fair. So not fair.

So angry. Angry he signed up for this, a job that doesn't close on major holidays and that is open 24 - 7. Felt good about being a doctor. But not so good about being one that has to work on Thanksgiving day.

It was ten o'clock when he finally got around to heating up that plate. And just as the microwave beeped, so did his pager again. Damn. Not fair. So not fair.

One of the cross-cover patients. A youngish man with throat cancer. Unable to eat foods by mouth and receiving nutrition through tube feeds. He was in pain. That's all. Just wanted something more for pain.

"Okay," he said. "I can give you some morphine. Is this okay?"  And the patient nodded because this was okay. He prepared to leave the room and get back to that plate.

"You know what I wish? I wish I was eating some turkey and dressing. Or even just around people eating that kind of food. This doesn't even feel like Thanksgiving."

The intern looked around the room. No flowers or cards or balloons. No beloveds perched in bedside chairs determined to bring a festive atmosphere into the hospital. Nope. None of that. Next he looked up at the television. NFL football with a big banner at the bottom of the screen that read "Happy Thanksgiving." Beyond this, he wasn't sure if there was any other way the patient would even know it was turkey day. This made the intern feel even sadder because football was a part of his family's Thanksgiving tradition. And even his wife was a supreme trash-talker on NFL Sundays.

"My wife brought me a plate of food from her aunt's house. I haven't even touched it. I'd sit down here with you if I didn't think it would be cruel for you to see all that food."

"Do you like football?" his patient asked.

"Do I?"

"Oh, then. . .man. . . .it'd be great to have Thanksgiving together. You with your plate and me with my tube feeds."

Both men laughed. The intern thought for a moment about the offer. His pager had finally calmed down. Things seemed to be a little less crazy than before.

Why not? 

A few minutes later he returned to the patient's room where they shared Thanksgiving together. One intern and his twice reheated plate and one patient with his twice restarted tube feeds.  They shared and laughed and even talked a little trash about the New Orleans Saints. And funny thing. That pager didn't go off once.

The next day, the intern went home to his loving wife and shared a belated Thanksgiving dinner together. The next week, that patient he broke bread with passed away.

Not fair. So not fair.

***

Up, up and away.

We remembered CJ. . .

and Granddaddy-in-heaven. 

We talked about who they were and why they were special. We talked about being thankful and what we are thankful for. Isaiah is thankful for his family. Zachary? "This whole world."

We hugged and kissed and said "I love you." (With puppies as our witnesses.)

 

It was special and perfect and beautiful.

***

Happy Thanksgiving to all. 

Now playing on my mental iPod. . . . the man in black sings this best.

. . . and to the "mommy of an angel" ~ I love you!

"and lo, I am with you always, even to the end of the age."  ~ Matthew 28:20

Random Thoughts of Thankfulness.

Thanksgivin'

I like having a day carved out for reflection about what's great about life. Big things, little things, obvious things, not-so-obvious things. . . .isn't it fun to reflect on them? Here are just a few of the ones I thought about today. . .

Grady

Thanksgiving 2010, Grady Hospital

My Thanksgiving day started out at Grady Hospital, so I decided that this is where I'd start my (random) list.

Although someone cursed me (all-the-way) out (yes, on Thanksgiving) in a Slavic language and I was asked by someone else to (please) come and look at their bowel movement ("here, in the bedside commode!"). . . . .there were still some good things.

One, I got a consult from and caught up with my favorite surgery resident, Carla H., who I learned is now a chief resident and a newlywed. Yay.

Next, I watched part of that show "The Doctors" with one of my sickest patients, who made me smile when I realized that he was definitely feeling better. He was well enough to ask me if I thought that was "that lady doctor's real hair or a hair-weave?" I said, "I think she just has long hair, sir." To which he retorted, "Naaahh, that ain't her hair, thaas one-a them hair-weaves."

Aaaaah. So thankful for Grady.

Technology

This is a picture of Harry skyping with his best friend, Shannon. Shannon is currently away from his family and is serving our country in Afghanistan, yet thanks to technology, got to sit up and shoot the breeze for nearly an hour with his best friend yesterday. Face to face. For free.

Totally thankful for technology.

Disney movies

Our 3D Thanksgiving.

(Yes, I do bring Popcorn cups to split the bag for the kids. And drink cups. Genius, I tell you.)

This is us at the new Disney movie "Tangled" today. Isaiah and I both got a bit choked up off of this one. (Love that Isaiah gets choked up at the right times during movies with me. We were both blubbering messes during Toy Story 3. I decided that this means he is a genius--not just sensitive.)

Zachary watched 75% of the 3D movie without his 3D shades (although has worn them for 75% of the time since we left the theater.) Harry dozed off twice. He would have gotten away with it behind those shades if he hadn't snored. His explanation for this?

"I didn't know this was a musical!"

Hello? Disney?

Family friendly and free Christmas Fun

After the movie -- good, clean (free) fun!

Atlanta has all kinds of fun (and free) holiday things for families to get into. We hung out in Atlantic Station this evening where we enjoyed the lovely Christmas tree (and the pack of screaming kids running laps around it.) The snow-making machine is also a hit. (Especially here in Georgia!)

Dad's and JoLai's health

Dad had a quadruple bypass almost eleven years ago. My sister, JoLai, had an awful battle with ulcerative colitis a few years back which was also managed surgically. The two of them walked 13.1 miles today. Their own half marathon to celebrate life, love, health, and stick-with-it-ness.

Some say 13 is an unlucky number. Today it represented the complete opposite of that.

The Armed Forces and Harry's Army Experience

Harry, the soldier? Two words: Bad. Ass.

Have I ever told you about how when I first met Harry, he told me that he was a Ranger? Ummm, well, did I also tell you about how I thought he meant. . .like. . .a Park Ranger? Well, turns out that what he meant was, like, an Army Ranger. As in jump out of a helicopter and kick somebody's butt Ranger. As in "Black Hawk Down," go after the worst bad guys ever, elite soldier Army Rangers. As in bad ass. As in (nothing against them at all but) not exactly the chase Yogi and Boo Boo, Park kind of Ranger.

Um yeah.

I'm thankful for all of the sacrifices that our service men and women make to protect us. We know first hand what that means. For those who don't, it sometimes means being away from home for over a year. Whether you like it or not. Whether you have kids or not. Or important things to do or not. Harry was in Korea when Shannon, his very best friend in the world, got married. Shannon, who was Harry's best man in our wedding. Shannon, who is Isaiah's godfather. And Shannon, who is a father and a husband and who is currently deployed to the middle east for one year. Now sure. . .missing a wedding is one thing. . .but being gone a full year when you have children? Now that's some sho' nuff sacrifice.(Reminds you to thank a soldier, doesn't it?)


Harry was honorably discharged shortly before we met, but the lessons he learned in the Army and especially in Ranger School will be with him forever. Lucky me--I get to be married to an officer and a gentleman without the fear all that goes with it these days.

Look up "how to be a man" in the dictionary, and you'll see Harry's picture. He's an excellent resource when it comes to leadership, and an awesome role model for sons.

Oh. . .and let me tell you--nobody keeps it realer than Army dudes.

"Sometimes you just have to 'shut your pie-hole' and do what needs to be done."

Words to live by, man.

My Medical Student Advisees

Small Group Alpha, Class of 2011

In 2007, I first met the seven students in my very first small group in the School of Medicine. As a part of the new curriculum unrolled that year, I joined a group of fifteen other faculty members each given the assignment of mentoring a small group of students from their first year to their final year of med school. In 2009, I took on my second small group. I affectionately dubbed them "Small Group Beta."

Small Group Beta, Class of 2013

I have seen these two groups of students twice weekly on average since their very first day of school, and am preparing to see my first group graduate this May. I have come to know each of them so well that they are absolutely like members of my family. How I lucked out and got the two best small groups in each class is beyond me.

I feel personally invested in their futures, and genuinely interested in their well-being. These fifteen human beings have given me a completely new definition of the words "job satisfaction." Hands down, this longitudinal teaching experience is one of the very best things I have ever done in my life-- professionally or personally.

(Almost) The Whole Brood at my house

Case in point. . . Thanksgiving text I received today from one of my advisees:

"Thanks for being you."

Love. Them. Love. This.

Coffee

Four words: Love. Love. Love. It. The smell of it. The taste of it. It.

My blog




I love writing it. I love reading it. And someone told me that they felt encouraged after reading it sometimes. Wow.

According to my little stats counter, more than three hundred folks stopped by to pay it a visit today. On Thanksgiving day, no less. Talk about something to be thankful for.

Now that encouraged me.

Team Manning and iMovie




I watched this several times today. In fact, I watch it any time that I need to be reminded to make love a verb. I call it my "video quilt." It was made from all the "scraps" of videos that I'd taken over a few years that I couldn't quite figure out how to make meaningful. Thanks to the wonders of Apple computers, it's as simple as iMovie.

***

So much to be thankful for. Not enough blog (or time) to include it all. I think that's a good problem to have, don't you?

Hope your day was full of peace and reflections, too. And I hope you didn't put too much into or let too much fly out of your "pie-hole." :)