Category Archives: family

family, Genealogy, miscellaneous

Progress on My Genealogy Project

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The closet shelf now has enough free space for some of my inventory for my books for sale.

I’ve written before about various special projects I’ve undertaken in the last two years of so. The sale of my 1900 encyclopedia set. The donation of the Stars and Stripes. The transfer of my grandfather’s trunk to a cousin. A collection of letters between a friend and me. The church Centennial book. A special project of some sort always seems to be in the mix of normal work.

Some of those special projects relate to disaccumulation in anticipation of a future downsizing. No date is set, but we know it’s coming. A couple of years ago I looked at the shelf of genealogy notebooks on a shelf in my closet and knew I had to do something about them.

I seriously doubt that my family members will be interested in it. Never say never, of course. I wasn’t interested in my genealogy until I was 46. So children or grandchildren might still show some interest. But as of now, none. When I’m gone, what’s going to happen to them? The trash can, I imagine. I really don’t want to leave them to my heirs to have to clean up, and I doubt I would have room for them in a smaller place.

These are about half the notebooks that I’ve been able to declare surplus.

I thought of donating them to some research library. But there are two problems with that. First, since I have been researching all family lines, both mine and my wife’s, and since we grew up in very different places and circumstances, the files would have to be split in two or more places.

But the really big reason why I can’t simply donate them is that they are atrociously unfinished. I started many sheets on many ancestors and never finished them. My documentation of facts I’ve accumulated ranges from excessive to non-existent. I would have to put a lot of work into bringing my files to a much higher level of completion than they are now before I could even think about donating them.

So I went through the notebooks, one by one, to see what I could cull from each. Page by page, I made a keep-discard decision. Some were easy but many were not. I got rid of enough pages to eliminate maybe a notebook or two, maybe even three.

Finally, early this year, I decided what I needed to do was digitize my files and throw most of the papers away. That, at first, proved to be a difficult process. How should I file them, and where? Do I file by family name first and generation second, or generation first and family second? I had already put in place a system for filing genealogy papers, which included a way of numbering ancestors.

But I found the system I started using wasn’t working. The system I needed had to be “retrievable”—that is, if I ever get back to active genealogy research I need to be able to find on the computer the files I digitized. That took some thinking and trials, but I finally got it. I would number each person first by their Ahnentafel number. I won’t explain that. It’s easily findable if you’re interested. Then I would include their generation number. My method for numbering generations is to designate my children to be Generation 100, and count backwards and forwards from there. I’m generation 99, my parents are generation 98, etc.

I decided to save everything to Microsoft OneDrive. If that ever goes away, or if they have a data failure, I could lose everything. That’s a risk I’m willing to take so as to reduce the amount of paper I have.

I began this project in earnest sometime earlier this year. Working notebook by notebook, page by page, I look at each page to see, with a more critical eye than I did before, if it’s a sheet that I want to keep, or if it’s so unfinished or preliminary or far in antiquity that it’s better just to discard it. My goal is to discard 10 sheets a day, either by scanning and discard or by immediate discard.

Ten sheets a day doesn’t sound like much, but over a year that would be 3,650 sheets if I did this every day. That’s over seven reams of paper in a year. That will put a serious dent in that shelf of notebooks in the closet. And while 10 sheets is the goal, my unofficial goal is 20 sheets. that would be approaching 15 reams of paper.

It’s actually kind of burdensome. Making the keep-discard decision, doing the scanning, figuring out the right place to save the scanned file and the right name to give it. After ten pages, I’m somewhat brain weary. Maybe that doesn’t make sense, since “getting things done” normally energizes me. I do feel energized when I work on the project, but it also wearies me.

I’d say I’m averaging 15 pages a day, discarded directly or after scanning and e-filing. That may not be fast enough to do what I want to do, but it’s the best I can do unless I stop all other things that make life interesting.

I’ll check back in and report more about this project in another month. Maybe I’ll have reduced my paper files by another couple of notebooks.

books, family, home improvements

One More Big Hole

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Here’s where they sat for over 20 years.

As I’ve posted before, my wife and I are slowly in the process of shedding possessions accumulated over the first 44 years of marriage. You would think that with the moves we made we would be lean in terms of stuff, but, alas, not so. When we went overseas our company paid to store our stuff so we didn’t have to get rid of anything. Now, being septuagenarians and knowing we will someday have to downsize, each possession is getting scrutiny. Does it bring us joy? Will we ever use it? Will we want to move it to whatever our next place is?

And here is the hole.

I’ve written before about some dis-accumulation we’ve done. Here’s a summary.

  • Dad’s tools. When Dad died in 1997, my brother and I split his tools between us, while my brother took all the hardware. My share, except for a very few I found uses for, sat in garages, unused, catching dust. It was in 2020 that I realized, “Do I really need six saws and eight planes?” Facebook Marketplace was my friend then, and I sold everything I didn’t see myself ever using.
  • They aren’t elegant to look at, but are obviously old. People like that.

    Mom’s books. In the 1930s and 40s, Mom accumulated books, some of them through book-of-the-month clubs, some through one-off purchases. Most of them were commonplace books with no sentimental value. Except they were Mom’s. I came to realize I never would read them, couldn’t keep them forever, and sold off about 800 of them. The last 120 or so went to thrift stores, with a couple figuratively stained by my tears.

  • And the “innards” aren’t splashy the way encyclopedias became—before they migrated to the internet.

    Dad’s Stars and Stripes. I’ve written about them before here and here, so I won’t go into it much. They are now in residence at the University of Rhode Island Library’s special collections, most likely in the inventory/curation process, waiting for scholars to pour over them.

  • Grandpa’s trunk. I also wrote about that not so long ago. The trunk Grandpa Oscar Todd brought with him when he emigrated from England to the USA is now at the home of a cousin, and much appreciated there.

So, what’s the new “hole” in our house, left from dis-accumulation?

  • Uncle Dave’s encyclopedias. These are a very nice, gently worn, 1900 set of the Encyclopedia Britannica. As our son urged us to do even more in anticipation of future downsizing, I listed them on Facebook Marketplace for a pretty good price. I had no action on them for a few weeks, then someone made an offer while we were out of town; I countered; a bargain was struck; and the transfer of money and books and bookcase happened on Saturday. The hole is in our entryway, which serves as an antique room.
A close-up of the covers. How they did encyclopedias in 1900.

The encyclopedias sat for many years (1950 to 1997) in the basement of the house I grew up in in Cranston, Rhode Island. Covered by a bedsheet, I found them one time in my teenage years, and had occasion to use them only once, in 1990 while visiting Dad. He said they were mine when he “croaked”.

I’m pretty sure they belonged to David Sexton, my grandmother’s uncle and the man I’m named after. He took my grandmother in when she was a single mother in a strange country and became a surrogate dad to my mom—or maybe a surrogate grandfather. He emigrated to the USA in 1887 and made his way to Providence in 1903. I suspect he bought the encyclopedias around the time of his arrival in Rhode Island.

A typical title page. Again, not splashy. Only a hole now because they belonged to Uncle Dave.

Our house here had the perfect place to display them. They took up little space and made a nice decoration for anyone entering the house. But are they something I would keep forever? I wish I could. When our son was here in January, he encouraged more dis-accumulation. My wife and I were at an impasse as to what to get rid of next, and as a result I decided these antique books would be next.

So they are gone. Even the bookcase, which was an antique of the same era, is gone. After confirming the sale, I wound up getting a full-price offer from another buyer. But, having made the bargain with the first buyer, I felt it had to go to them.

What more can I say? There is a hole in the entryway where they stood, and a little bit of a hole in my heart. But I have many other legacy books that belonged to Uncle Dave. Someday they will go the way of all earthly possessions, but not just yet.

family, Health, travel

Oh the Pain of It

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Dateline: 14 June 2023, Lake Jackson, Texas

Nuisance turned away just as I snapped the picture. This was taken 6/13, when I had healed enough to try walking her again.

We have been in Lake Jackson, Texas, since June 2, a combination of seeing our son-in-law installed as pastor of his new church, followed by grandparent duty for the oldest grandchild and five pets while the rest of the family went to our denomination’s General Assembly in Indianapolis.

You really can’t say you’re babysitting a 15-year-old. You’re just providing adult supervision and authority, and perhaps not much of either. For five days, we cared for the pets, and occasionally pried the teenager out of his room for some food or a game of Rummycube.

But, while the rest of the family was still there, maybe on our third day in town, I decided to go for a morning walk. I thought, why not take the dog with me, and give her some extra exercise.  Her name is Cherry, but my name for her is Nuisance. Unfortunately, the dog and a snake saw each other before I saw the snake. They lunged at each other, stopping two feet from each other, Nuisance almost pulling my left arm off—or so it felt.

It was a beautiful area. Just watch out for alligators and snakes.

Back to the house, I self-assessed the damage and decided to go to urgent care. They determined nothing was broken, and the arm was still in its socket. It was just a bad sprain of a couple of muscles that come together at the shoulder, where the deltoid and the pecs come together. I was fitted with a sling and told to take lots of over-the-counter pain meds, and come back in a few days if it wasn’t better. Sleeping has been a little tough, but has gotten better every night.

It’s now nine days since the accident. Healing isn’t complete. but it’s come a long way. At first, I couldn’t raise my arm. I had to pull my left arm up with my right. Once I got it up there was no pain. Now I can raise it with just a little pain.

The first couple of days I couldn’t get my arm up to the computer keyboard. So it was a good thing I planned on taking the month of June off from writing. After a week of recovery, I was able to use a keyboard enough to do source gathering for my next Documenting America book. I didn’t finish, but I made a lot of progress for a man with a gimp arm.

Tomorrow we head home. It’s a 10-hour drive if we take only minimal stops. We’ll be on a road we’ve never taken before, at least for a good part of it.

I missed three writer group meetings this week, but that’s okay. I’ll catch them in July. Meanwhile, I’ll have half a month at home to read, clean up my writing area, or perhaps do a little editing of a Bible study, or plan out a new one. I have some books that were ordered that I need to mail out.

So, that’s my adventure to report, experienced and planned. Let the vacation commence.

family, holidays, memories, miscellaneous

An Odd Delivery

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Grandfather Todd’s trunk. Came from Yorkshire to NYC in 1910, to Providence in 1912, to East Providence around 1914, back to Providence around 1945, to Cranston in 1950, to NW Arkansas in 1997, and to Myrtle Beach in 2023.

One of the consequences of being in West Texas on a long-ish (more than two weeks) grandparent duty is that I wasn’t home to handle one very important item, scheduled since January. This relates to decluttering and dis-accumulation in advance of a downsizing some day, specifically to the Stars and Stripes that I’ve written about before.

For decades it held wartime copies of the “Stars and Stripes”, but they are now gone.

Not really about the newspapers, but the trunk they were stored in. This is an old steamer trunk that was one of three trunks that sat in the basement of my parents’ house for decades. As a kid growing up, I never knew the origin of those trunks nor what they were storing.

Someone who knows trunks could probably figure out more about it, such as year of manufacture and value.

On one trip back to Rhode Island, in 1990, Dad and I talked about his war service setting type for the S&S. We went to the basement and Dad showed me all those newspapers he’d sent home from Europe, which his parents kept and put in the trunk.

When Dad died in 1997, I took the trunk back to Arkansas and there it sat, either in my garage or basement, until a few days ago. Last year I removed the contents and shipped them to the University of Rhode Island Library as a donation, keeping a handful of copies as keepsakes.

That left the empty trunk. It was a steamer trunk, nothing fancy. On one end “OT” was painted. I assume, therefore, that this belonged to my grandfather, my dad’s dad, Oscar Todd. He emigrated from Yorkshire, England, to the USA in 1910 at the age of 20. He was in New York City for a couple of years, then made his way to Rhode Island. There he worked, married, and raised a family.

The “OT” painted on the outside is the only real clue I have about the origin, and the reason I believe it belonged to my grandfather, Oscar Todd, and was probably the trunk he brought with him from England to the USA.

I assume that this trunk was the one he brought from England in 1910. I’m sure there’s a way to research it and determine its age and origin. But I’m convinced that’s what it is: my grandfather’s trunk. He kept it, and when those newspapers came in wartime mail, it became a good place to store them.

From 1910 to around 1950, the trunk was wherever Oscar was, in NYC, the Riverside district of East Providence, and Providence. From 1950 to 1997, it was in the basement of Dad’s house in Cranston. From 1997 to 2023, it was with me in two different houses. While not overly large, it just doesn’t fit in with the concept of dis-accumulation. So when I decided to donate the S&S, I decided to get rid of the trunk.

Neither of my children wanted it. I don’t fault them for that. The trunk would take a fair amount of restoration to be a display item. The heirloom value would only be to someone who knew Oscar, and he died before they were born. I thought of others in the family who might want it, and decided on a cousin’s son, Frank Reed. He and his wife have six children, Frank knew Oscar, his great-grandfather, briefly and remembers him, so that seemed the next logical place for it to go.

The problem is, Frank recently removed from New Jersey to Myrtle Beach, South Carolina. How to get the trunk to him? Shipping was a possibility, though expensive. So in January I put out a call on Facebook for anyone making a road trip there who would be willing to take the trunk. Amazingly, a woman responded saying she would be going to the North Carolina Outer Banks and could drive the trunk as far as Raliegh-Durham Airport. Could my cousin meet her there? He said yes, and arrangements were made for the trunk transfer at a certain time on May 9.

But then, grandparent duties took me away from home at the time we would have to get the trunk to the woman who was driving it east. She contacted me; I was in Texas, not planning to be home before May 7, when the trunk needed to go to her.

Our neighbors had a key to our house to water the plants. I contacted them and they were happy to help out. The first transfer, from our house to our neighbors, happened on the 6th. The second transfer, from our neighbor’s to Kimberly’s van, happened on the 7th. The third transfer, from Kimberly to Frank’s son’s car (he went to pick it up), happened in the cell phone lot at Raleigh-Durham Airport on the 9th, and the drive to Myrtle Beach the day.

So much work to get a simple trunk halfway across country. But it happened. Now Frank and his family can decide how best to display and enjoy this family heirloom, either as-is or with restoration.

Dis-accumulation continues. Next, Uncle Dave’s 1900 Encyclopedia Brittanica.

 

family, miscellaneous

Too Busy To Write

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Not going to review this one. I read it, a thin volume, over five or six busy days.

That’s the problem right now, I have too much to do to do any writing. I think it was Tuesday that I put the finishing touches on the first draft of A Walk Through Holy Week, Part 7. Since then, I’ve done no writing. Well, I spent a little time in The Key To Time Travel, taking care of a few loose ends, especially in the dates that Eddie travels to. But I did nothing to get ready for this blog, wrote no letters, nothing.

I did finish a writing book, titled The Writer’s Notebook. I won’t review it here. It was marginally beneficial. I gave it to my granddaughter Elise, who has also read it and said she got a lot out of it. Maybe she’ll be a writer someday.

The busyness comes from our daughter’s family’s upcoming move, currently scheduled for late this month. I’ve been pushing everyone to sort and pack the small stuff. Sort into keep, donate, discard. And the keeping stuff has to be marked for storage or temporary house.

They had done a lot before we got here twelve days ago, but there is much to do. Everyone has pitched in. Saturday was a major effort. Lots of books gone through, Legos boxed, messy piles gone through in bedrooms. Even yesterday saw some work done. Saturday #2 grandson, Ezra, and I took a modest load of stuff to a thrift store. Hopefully today I’ll be able to take a load of books to a Christian school.

Of course, everything is a mess at the moment. Boxes everywhere, some sealed, some not; some assembled, some waiting for assembly. Many more in the garage, though not even close to what will be needed.

Many Wal-Mart runs later, with many meals cooked and eaten, rides to and from school, and errands run, and we are down to the last few days of this trip. We’ll head home for some appointments, then be back here to help with the final move. That will be about a ten-day trip, shorter than this 16-day one. That will include helping them into the new place.

Writing tasks will begin again later this week, probably on Friday. I’ll report in then.

family

A Productive Two Weeks

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Nuisance on the floor next to me, tired after walking 1.91 miles.

We drove to Texas on Tuesday, March 28, to help our daughter out while her husband is away, beginning his pastoral ministry at a new church. We head home on Friday, April 7 (out daughter’s birthday). It’s been a good two weeks. Busy, but good.

I’m starting this post at noon on April 5th. I’ll have to interrupt it to walk the dog, eat lunch, and do some yard work. I’ll schedule it to post on Friday. But let me tell you what has gone on and edit it tomorrow to add a little more.

Walking the dog has been one of my main jobs during this stay, along with cooking and dishes. The dog, which I have nicknamed Nuisance,  is a handful. She’s big at 65 pounds, likes to play by biting you, and is just a nuisance all the way around. The first day we were here I walked her about a mile. Her walks aren’t for doing her business, which she will only do in the back yard. The walks are for getting some energy out. With no dog parks nearby, the walks are in the neighborhood.

That’s good. The slopes are gentle, and so long as I don’t push it on the uphill slopes, the angina doesn’t come on. The second day I went a little further with her. My natural pace is slower than what she wants to go, so she was constantly pulling. Anytime we passed a side yard and dogs were in it, a sniffing episode followed by much parking and pulling resulted.

Day by day, I learned where the dogs were and adjusted our route to stay away from them as much as possible. And I began to lengthen the walk. By the sixth day we were going 1.75 miles. She had adjusted her gait to mine (for the most part) and didn’t pull as much. My legs felt stronger most days. After Saturday, that is, when yardwork before the walk caused me to struggle that day.

As soon as we got home from the walks, I fed her. She ate and drank voraciously and hurriedly, then found a cool place on the floor to take a nap. For me, more work kept me from taking my nap.

We just got back (now on Thursday) from our last walk on this trip. Nuisance is lying on the floor right next to my chair. I think she has come to like me more than I have her. Tomorrow we head home. We’ll be back later in the month and do the same thing. So she has lots of walks with me yet.

I should probably hate to say this, but I won’t miss her in between these trips. We understand each other a little better. And I’m glad for the exercise these walks have given me. But I’m still not getting a dog.

Bible study, family, travel

On Duty

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Three of these are our grandkids. The oldest is a teen, so not in this children’s program.

My wife and I are on grandparent duty, again. Our son-in-law has taken up his new pastorate, further south and east in Texas. The family won’t move until school is out. He will follow a schedule of two weeks in the new location and two weeks home until they make the final move, probably near the end of May.

Since that left our daughter alone with the four kids, we came to dusty, dry, and windy West Texas to help her out. I’ve been taxiing kids to school, taking them to the library, reading with them, and being chief cook and bottle washer for 11 days.

I’m also getting some work done. Did my stock trading each market day. Worked on my Bible study book each day. Following up on author items. So it’s not been a bad gig. And with our daughter here the work is spread out a little more than when we babysat the grandkids for 11 days not all that long ago.

We head home on Friday. Hopefully I’ll get a better blog post done in a timely manner for Friday.

family, travel

The Dance of a Thousand Tumbleweeds

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Well, we got back home late Saturday evening from a 2082 mile road trip. Yesterday was mainly a restful day, including church. Monday will be getting back to normal.

We left home midday on Tuesday, Feb 7, driving to the Oklahoma City area. After dropping our recyclables at the great OKC drop-off center, we met up with Lynda’s step-sister and husband who live nearby in Norman. We hadn’t seen them since Sept 2020. The purpose of the visit, besides catching up, was to deliver to them a box of music we found at our house that had belonged to Katie’s mother. It had been left at our house years ago and was overlooked when we were going through Lynda’s mom’s things.

We spent the night nearby, and continued to Big Spring, Texas. The next day, our daughter and son-in-law left for a 10-day mission trip to Thailand. That left us watching the four grandchildren, three cats, and one dog. Oh, yes, and one bearded dragon. For twelve days. Twelve days of taking kids to school, seeing that they took care of their pets, their lunchboxes, and clothes.

A couple of years ago, when the kids came to visit us, I created the rule that they had to read 30 minutes in a book—a print book—before they could get their screen. I didn’t get any pushback from them, and that’s been a rule for a couple of years now. I made that the rule in their house during our surrogate parent gig, but we did it in the afternoon rather than in the short time between rising and leaving for school. They also had to clean litter boxes, feed pets, and do some room straightening up.

Both Lynda and I were able to spend some good time with each child. Lynda did the daily reading with the youngest, both after school and before bed. Then I laid down with him and sang him to sleep. I read the Bible with the second oldest book, took him to boy scouts, and had some good conversations. I took our only granddaughter on an educational walk around the neighborhood. We had a number of conversations, and worked together to clean up a major mess in her room. The oldest boy, a freshman in high school, spent a few nights away at a friend’s house, and had a friend over one night. He and I had one particularly good and important conversation the day after the parents got back. It went well.

The cats were not a lot of work for us, as the kids do most of what’s needed. The dog was another matter. I walked her around noon every day. She’s a big lab mix, 66 pounds of muscle and excitement. The walks were generally a mile to a mile and a half. I came back really tired; she came back barely winded. One day another big dog hopped the fence of its yard and rushed us. I was barely able to control Nuisance (my nickname for her) until a neighbor, who I think was actually the owner of that dog, got it under control.

We were able to keep up okay with laundry, school requirements, church activities. We also got a lot of cleaning done, things the parents can’t really get to with their jobs. At the end of the time, we were quite tired but feeling good about a job well-done.

Two other bits of excitement happened. On the first Monday, I had a crown pop out. Fortunately, I was able to get into a dentist the next day. The crown was still good. The dentist re-cemented it fairly easily. Then, the second Saturday morning, Nuisance ate a box and a half of dark chocolates left out by one of the kids. We had some anxious moments trying to find a vet who could help us on the weekend, but were successful at that. I had to miss some of a church activities. The dog survived and soon thrived again. The grandkids were not disappointed that we missed some of their activity.

On Wednesday, Feb 22, we drove from West Texas to Santa Fe NM to see Lynda’s brother. Intending to drive home on Friday, we extended our stay until Saturday. It was a good visit. I got out of the house a couple of times: once to the library, once to get a Dunkin. Our drive there was an adventure in itself. It was the day of the big windstorm. We drove through Texas and New Mexico in much wind, sometimes having to slow down as if we were in fog. Then, as we got closer to Santa Fe, the winds increased and the snow started, the winds blowing it horizontally. We passed through one snowstorm, had blue sky for a while, then had another, more intense storm. The snow never accumulated on the roads, but was being caught by fences along the right of way.

We spent the drive dodging tumbleweeds as best we could. At Vaughn NM, we got out for a pit stop. The wind was near hurricane force. We made it into the store and back into the car, afraid we would be blown to the ground. After Vaughn, we saw an amazing thing. The wind was so strong that, instead of blowing tumbleweeds across the road, it was tearing the tumbleweeds apart. The smaller pieces—still recognizable as mini-tumbleweeds—no longer in pieces big enough to catch the wind and whiz by, seemed to dance across the highway, bouncing a few feet, then bouncing in place a while before moving before the wind. It was like a dance of a thousand little tumbleweeds in front of us. Quite exciting to behold, had I not been hanging onto the steering wheel for dear life.

Our trip home on Saturday was relatively uneventful and, for me as the driver, relaxing compared to every day of the trip before that. We got in about 10 p.m., having lost close to 1.5 hours of time with stops related to picking up some items that were supposed to be delivered to us at Christmastime.

Would we do it again? You bet we would. For our kids and grandkids we would be temporary caregivers/guardians in a heartbeat. For the pets, well, let me thing about that a little.

family

Very Late

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Well, here it is Friday evening and I just realized I hadn’t done a post today. It’s been busy. Our son is visiting us from Chicago, here for a few days to help us out as my wife convalesces following her pacemaker surgery. I’m sorry to not have a real post, but it will have to wait until Monday.

family, Health

A Comedy of…?

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I think that line is usually finished with “errors”. A comedy of errors. Though I don’t remember exactly why or where that comes from. Maybe Shakespear. No matter.

That’s what yesterday morning was: a comedy of something. Problems. Troubles. Difficulties. Setbacks. I have to go back a few days to set this up—which I will try to do succinctly.

Lynda has had heart troubles for a while, mainly a-fib. At the same time she had high blood pressure and took a medication for that, or maybe it was two medications. One time she blacked out while walking the neighbors’ dog and fell face-first on their driveway.

When she was in the hospital in April 2020 for her burst appendix, her heart acted up. They worked on meds for that, eventually figured she needed an ablation, had that, and seemed a little better. Her episodes of a-fib slowly became fewer, less frequent, and less severe. But they still came, even more than a year after the procedure.

Then Sat night/Sun morning, she had a severe episode of her heart racing then stopping. I don’t mean stop racing, but stop all together. That kept her up in the night, but she was better by morning. Then it happened again on Sunday afternoon and on Monday sometime.  Talks with the staff of her primary doc and cardiologist brought different answers. When it happened again Tuesday as we were about to eat supper, we went to the ER at our closest urgent care facility.

They were able to get an EKG just as an episode took place. Sure enough, we could see speeding up followed by missing beat. They decided to admit her to the main hospital, and took her by ambulance. After a few hours of monitoring, they decided she needed a pacemaker. But that couldn’t be done till the next morning, Wednesday, and would be followed by 24 hours of observation in the hospital.

I spent the night with her Tuesday, rushed home Wednesday to see to my meds, brush my teeth, get a few things; got back to the hospital literally two minutes before they wheeled her over to the OR. As the day went on she seemed ok and would likely be released on Thursday as planned. So I went home around 9 p.m. Wednesday.

That brings us to Thursday morning. Through a Messenger post, I learned that her heart was still racing some, making her sick, causing her to vomit and not keep her med down. I gathered the things that would be needed for her discharge, got in the car and—it wouldn’t start.

What now? It didn’t sound like a dead battery. I called AAA for a tow. Right as I was talking to their automated system, Lynda called to tell me what was happening with her. So I didn’t really hear what the auto system said, just that someone was coming and would be there in an hour. Lynda thought her discharge was still possible.

Great. My wife is sick in the hospital and I can’t make the 20-mile drive to see her. Then I remembered that our old minivan was back in running condition. Barely, but I could take it to get her. Except, AAA was on their way. And it had started snowing. One thing not working on the old minivan was the windshield wipers. No, I couldn’t take that.

Who could I call? Several people in church would help, if available. Maybe the shop would give me a loaner, though last time I needed one they didn’t have one. Hmmm. This was a major stress point for me.

Then things turned around. AAA got here, tested the battery, said it was bad, jumped it, and it started right up. It was a nearly 6-year-old battery. I drove it the four miles to the Dodge dealership and they got me right in. I drove back home, took care of a few things, and headed to the hospital.

It turned out Lynda’s pacemaker was working properly, but those gadgets are for the purpose of stimulating the heart when it beats too slowly or when it skips a beat When her heart started racing, it was also skipping a beat and the pacemaker kicked in. They control the proper beating of the heart with a combination of the pacemaker and medicine.

Except she was nauseous and couldn’t keep the medicine down and they didn’t want to re-start the IV to give the med intravenously. Problem upon problem.

Eventually, as the day wore on, she got a shot of anti-nausea medicine. She felt a little better as that kicked in and was able to keep her next heart pill down. By evening, she was much better and they were ready, not to release her, but move her out of intensive care. I went ahead and went home. As soon as I walked in the door, the hospital called. No, nothing was wrong. They told me they had finally moved her to a different room.

What a day it was. Problem upon problem. Except, one business adage is that there are no problems, only opportunities, right? Sure didn’t feel like it at the time. Her heart racing to 170 beats per minute. The car not starting. The nausea. The despondency that caused. The hours ticking by with no apparent solution coming. None of that felt like opportunities.

Our children called, which helped ease Lynda’s mental condition. A good friend from church, a woman whose husband was ill and had just been released from the same hospital the day before, called and prayed with her on the phone. Lynda’s brother called a couple of times. And, through social media, she was able to see an outpouring of love, prayer, and support.

Problems make you stronger, right? Perhaps so, but I never want to go through a day of problems like that again. Maybe some day we will look back on yesterday and be able to say it was a comedy of problems and laugh about it.

Maybe, maybe not. I just hope we don’t go through anything like that again.