How Are You?

We are blessed.

Day 39 —

Missing daddy on the beach.

How are you?  This is a question I constantly field from those who are close to me as well as from strangers.  There isn't anything intrinsically wrong with others asking this question.  It is often a question that we ask without true purpose, an extension of "Hello"...a common courtesy. Lately, I just don't know how to answer.  At moments, I am fine. Really, I am fine.  At other times, my world seems daunting. My answers range from "I am well" or "I am fine" to "I'm ok" to "I am surviving."

I recently was purchasing luggage in preparation for our trek to be with Mark when we get "The Call."  In normal Kristen fashion, I sought out the best deal and in the process questioned which type of luggage to purchase and decided I needed to try several different versions.  Thus, leading to multiple conversations with different sales clerks regarding the "vacation" I must be taking.  My initial thought was just smile and not answer.  But somewhere deep down, I wanted to acknowledge that this luggage purchase was much more than a simple trip. And thus, I decided to be real.  The responses I received from the well meaning clerks ranged from astonishment to true concern.  I mean it must not be everyday that someone responds I am going on a trip to be with my husband who is waiting for a heart transplant 1,200 miles away.  Now, that's a conversation starter...or stopper. ;-)

The truth is we are surviving and taking one day at a time.  One.Day.At.A.Time.  Because, even in the midst of something as complex as waiting for a heart, life happens.  In some cases the normal, everyday frustrations are welcome. A diversion from waiting, and at other times, just like normal, they are almost too much to handle. The months of June and July have proven to be the later.  One issue after another has come up and I am exhausted.  It's been wacky...for the majority of the past several weeks we have camped out in our living room because we have been without our upstairs AC—three different service calls and two major components later, we may have air returning tomorrow.  On Saturday, we noticed that one of my tires on the Suburban was split/slit down to the treads.  I mean a four inch chunk of the tire was able to be lifted up. What in the world! I have no idea what happened or when...and yes, as I expected, according to the service technician it was dangerous to drive on.  Thankfully my father-in-law was already at my house working on the air conditioning issue and other repair list and he remembered that Mark kept one of our nearly new tires when he replaced the tires back in the fall.  Just another bump in the road!

The girls take things as they come and just keep going.

I try to keep everything in perspective...to not over react, especially with my girls.  I constantly have to remind myself that they are going through the same range of emotions as me and Mark, yet have much less life experience to pull from.  They look to me for cues on how they should handle.  Some days I am really
proud of the example I show them.  At other times, I wish I had responded differently.  For years, I have tried to cover up my true sadness and stress when it comes to Mark's health issues.  I can remember during some of the more critical moments, crying out to God and physically crying through every shower or drive to and from work.  (Let's be real, with 4 children those are often the only times I find myself alone.)  But in recent months, a trusted source shared with me that me showing the girls that it is ok to cry is an important step in our healing process as we navigate these rocky waters. What a relief!

It has been good and comical.  Our four-year-old is in a phase of singing about everything.  Recently her songs have been consumed with the death of my grandmother followed by the death of Sam, our 15-year-old Jack Russell.  The songs also highlight how mommy has been sad, sad, sad and crying.  She is a sweet, tender soul and is very often the first to see I need comforting and freely gives hugs.  One of the times she even got my phone, hit the button to FaceTime Mark and said, "Mommy, I think you need to talk to Daddy."  She is very perceptive and matter of fact.  Those sweet moments make me smile at how much she is growing up.  And then at other times, she tests every inch of me with her charm and resistance to do anything that is not her idea. We all have had many laughs over our summer having the makings of a country music hit.;-)

We can't wait for the day we are reunited as a family.

In the midst of our "normal" summer life managing what comes our way with a splash of pool life, balancing work, the beach and oh yeah...getting ready for a trip to be with Mark during his transplant.  Mark is still waiting.  He spends his days managing his fluid status, how he is feeling and doing what he can to keep his mind off the wait.  Multiple times over the past 39 days additional surgeries and heart caths have been suggested, planned, called-off and then planned again.  It is draining.  It is hard to support him from 1,200 miles away. He has good days and emotional days dealing with the what-ifs, the when, the how, the who?  All the questions that fill the minds of those who wait for a life sustaining gift. We are already praying for the family who will have to make that decision.  In the midst of their personal pain, they will choose to give the gift of life.  And for that, we will forever be grateful. Praying that day gets here quickly...and in the process we both are able to weather the storms that come our way, keep perspective and get back to answering, "How are you?" with "Great" and truly mean it.