Keepin' It Kerns

For Tori's 8th, she got the choice of having a party or going on a trip to Branson to see the Dixie Stampede. Obviously, she chose the latter...The contrast of the stormy sky and green trees on our way was really pretty. I felt like I was in Ireland...

In the past two days, we Kernses have see four rainbows. I can't remember ever seeing so many in a short time span. Garon saw one on his way home on the 23rd; We saw the one I posted as "Tori's Rainbow" that same day; The picture below was on our way to Branson on the 24th; And THEN, while Tori and I were in the Dixie Stampede, Garon saw another full bow that he posted to facebook. Amazing.

Two Southern belles....

Pre-show anticipation...

We ran in to some friends from County Line! This is Madison from Tori's class...

"Happy Birthday to YOU!"

Quick trip...on our way home...

We took highway 7 through Jasper...This is the Arkansas I love...

And some highway entertainment...

Happy birthday, my great big Tori-pants!

A few weeks ago, my grandfather fell and hit his head. The fall led to a trip into the hospital for repair, which led to a two-week stay in the hospital's rehab unit. One night early in those weeks, I spent the night with my grandmother so that she wouldn't be alone. On our way home that night, Granny said, "Nelli, he's been ready to go for two years." Even though he was expected to recover at the time, I think Granny knew then that he was done.

Two weeks later, he was released to go home. We all knew, however, that "home" would never again mean what it had previously for Grandpa. Instead of becoming stronger, he had weakened in rehab. He could barely pick up his cup to drink. Also, my grandpa, who all his life was smart, quick, and witty, in those last two weeks became lost. Some days my mom was his sister. Some days she was me. Once he thought I was my mom, and Tori was me. So, he was released home on Friday the 2nd with severely diminished physical and mental capacities, and the family had already begun to try to figure out how we could offer him the best care.

Then the next morning (Saturday the 3rd), my mom called me. Grandpa was in an ambulance on his way back to the hospital due to stomach pain. I was the first one there. Soon Granny, Tim, and Mom arrived. When the doctor examined Grandpa, he said that he suspected some "mischief" and ordered a CAT scan. I was sitting with Granny and Grandpa when the doctor came back with the results. Between the time he'd left the hospital the day before and that next morning, he'd suffered a perforated bowel. But that wasn't all. Besides the perforated bowel, Grandpa had advanced lymphoma throughout his abdomen. Grandpa was admitted to the hospice unit, and we began preparing to let him go.

Mom stayed with him the whole time. Tim drove Granny back and forth. Candace and I took turns staying with Mom. Sunday afternoon, Marty flew in from California. Both Sam and Jenny would be driving up from Louisiana and flying in from Arizona (respectively) on Monday afternoon. We doubted they'd make it in time.

Meanwhile, Grandpa was deteriorating quickly. He stopped communicating with us early on Sunday. He was basically in a coma, and in that state he began repeatedly reaching for something (or someone) in the room that we couldn't see. It was awesome in the true sense of that word.

By the end of Sunday, I expected every breath to be his last. As it was Easter Sunday, I thought it seemed appropriate for him to go to heaven on that day of resurrection, but he kept hanging on. We began to wonder to ourselves and to each other if he was waiting for Sam and Jenny.

Monday was brutal. Grandpa was fighting his body to breathe, and his pulse ox was down in the 70% range. We stood by, stroked his hair, held his hands, and wondered at his will for life. By about 5:00 p.m., his pulse ox was not even registering. Sam had arrived, but Jenny's plane wasn't due until 5:55. Then she had to get her bag, get her rental car, check in to her hotel, and find her way to the hospital. There was no way she was going to make it. But Grandpa kept breathing.

At 6:00, Mom called Dad. He was almost there and close to the airport. Mom asked him to see if he could intercept Jenny. He did. Jenny's plane arrived at 6:02, Dad found her at 6:07, and they were on their way.

Meanwhile, the rest of us stayed fixed with Grandpa. Granny, his wife of 71 years; Marty, Tim, and Sam, his sons; Vicki, his daughter; and Candace and I, his eldest granddaughters, were all there. At about 6:20, he quit breathing. We all held our breath, too. Jenny had to be close. He breathed. Mom stepped out to call Dad to see where they were. Candace followed. Grandpa stopped again. I started counting and got to seven. I told my uncle to get Mom and Candace because he was quitting again. Mom flew in saying, "Oh no! They're in the elevator..."

Grandpa had been waiting for her, and we all knew that by this time. He wanted all of his kids there. I leaned over him and told him, "Grandpa, Jenny's in the elevator!" Ten seconds had passed. And then Grandpa gasped, breathed, and Jenny walked into the room.

Twenty minutes later, with all of us there, Grandpa passed away. I still cannot believe that I witnessed what I did. It was absolutely one of the most beautiful moments of my life. My heart is full, and I am so proud for him. He lived a long, full life and left for us a legacy. He was also a storyteller of storytellers, and I can just imagine his welcome party and the story he got to tell. Grandpa was the youngest of seven siblings and the last to die, so even though we're left with a gaping hole down here, he filled a long-awaited place next to the rest of his family in heaven.

I feel so honored and privileged, and on the days I feel less-than-able, I need only to think of the integrity with which my grandpa lived every single day, and carry on. What an example of a life well-lead. What a grandpa...