Uncle Benny

How many people can say they know someone who was attacked by a bull?  How many people can say they know an eighty three year old man who had his pelvis crushed when attacked by that bull, who not only lived to tell about it, but who six months later is walking like nothing ever happened?  I would guess that puts the people in my area in a relatively small group of people.  And Mark just happens to be related to him, it is his Uncle Benny.

It all started last January when we had record breaking cold temperatures in this area.  Benny still loved helping his son on their dairy farm and nothing could have kept him from being out there even though the temperature was 17 degrees below zero and who knows what the wind chill was!  While his son was finishing up in the dairy barn, Benny drove the pickup out to a water hydrant that they used to keep the cows watered.   The hydrant had frozen up overnight so he brought a couple buckets full of hot water with him.  He says he remembers pouring the water and then all of the sudden he was flying through the air.  The more than 2000 pound bull was relentless as it kept coming after him again and again.  He remembers trying to climb back into the pickup to get away from him but not being able to.  That is about the last thing he remembers.  When his son realized that his Dad should have returned he went out to see what the problem was, and that is when he found him underneath the pickup.  The first person to respond to the 911 call was a neighbor who is a volunteer fire fighter and heard the call come over his radio.  He later told Mark that when he first saw Benny he thought it was already too late.  When they got him to the emergency room, the people there thought the same thing.  He was air lifted to a larger hospital and the family was told to expect the worse.  He was given twenty units of blood just to keep him alive.  I can only imagine what his family went through those first few days.  I know every day we expected to hear bad news.

But Benny had other plans.  It seemed like each day we heard more encouraging reports.  First of all, when he was stabilized, they were able to take him into surgery, and although he had a shattered pelvis that had to be put back together with plates, screws and who knows what other hardware, he had no injury to any internal organs.   Then we heard that he was awake and eating.  It was hard to believe he was really doing as good as they said, but before we knew it, he was back in the local hospital and we were able to see it for ourselves.  Whenever we went to visit him, he was always in such a good mood and had such a positive attitude.  He was able to sit in a wheel chair but could put absolutely no weight on his feet for three months. That was his only complaint, he was sure if they would only let him stand up he could walk out of there!

Eventually of course, the long months in the hospital were over and he got to go home.  His wife Betty and their children, expecting many months, if not years of rehabilitation went to work on their home making the rooms wheelchair accessible, and had a lift put in.  Tonight we went and visited them and they showed us all of the changes they had made to their home.  The wonderful thing was though, Benny walked around showing us all of these things, without a cane or any other kind of support, even walking up and down the stairs!  They laughed as they told us they really never needed all of this.  But we all agreed that it is still a good thing.  Maybe in twenty years, when they are old (like over one hundred), they might need it then and they will already have it in place.  But, I wouldn't bet on it,  I have a feeling Mark and I might need those things before they do!  

I know that his experience amazes me!  Who would have ever thought an eighty three year old man could survive such trauma, let alone completely recover in such a short time frame?  There is a lesson to be learned here, it is a testimony to prayer, to a body kept strong and healthy by good old fashioned work, a positive attitude, and the love of a family.  I know that if someday, I have to face a "bull" of my own, those are four things I want in my arsenal.

The Wheels on the Bus go Round and Round.....

One evening about a year and a half ago Mark was killing time looking through internet auction sights when he saw a city bus for sale.  He hollered at me to come take a look and said we ought to buy this for our family.  I wholeheartedly agreed so our bid was placed.  All of our kids were so excited hearing of this and I think every one of them was glued to the computer when the auction time ended.  I was at work delivering mail watching the clock myself, eagerly anticipating the call saying if we won it or not.  The phone rang about four times in a row letting me know that WE NOW OWN A BUS!!!  I think all my co-workers thought we were nuts, but they thought we were nuts anyway because of the size of our family so this just gave them a little more proof!  When I got off work, my son and hubby were waiting and we headed out on the road to pick "her" up.  Filling it up with gas for the drive home was a bit of a reality check, but heck, how can you put a price on fun and family togetherness!  We went home through the town most of the kids live in, picked them all up and cruised for about thirty minutes and thought we were having the time of our lives!  We chatted happily about what all  we were going to do with it.  We tried to come up with a good name for it, but having never settled on one, it is affectionately just known as "the bus".

Every trip when I sit down in the drivers seat or one of the passenger seats I get a very pumped feeling!  It just adds an element of fun when we all ride together.  Makes it feel like that much more of an adventure.  Many of the trips we've gone on, us women and children end up singing at the top of our lungs. Sometimes Christmas Carol's, sometimes other songs we all know.  We always have to break out "The Wheels on the Bus go Round and Round!"  They have never said so, but I imagine all the men are very thankful when we come to the end of our songs!

So far the bus has been on local geo-caching trips and took a load of us to Kyle and Dani's college graduation reception.  It has taken all of us girls to Amanda's bridal shower, taken us on two or three picnic outings to Great Grandma's house.  Has taken Granny and her brother and his wife and several of us out to eat at a well known bar and grill situated way out in the boonies.  It has surprised many grandkids when it pulled up to their house all decked out with lights, balloons and banners, full of family and friends ready to celebrate their birthday at a surprise location.  We filled it to the brim with kids, orange lights, balloons and battery powered jack-o-lanterns to go trick or treating last year.  The mommy's said it made the night much MUCH easier and funner for them!  Then when December came we decked it out in red, green, and white balloons and lights to go Christmas Caroling and light seeing.  Shortly thereafter it helped make our oldest grandaughter's "coming of age" party more festive as we took her out for a special night.  This spring it took the family on a trip to the zoo.

Our latest adventure with the bus was to take the entire family to a lake camp about two and half hours away.  You would not believe how fast the miles go by when you have all the people you love laughing and talking in the same vehicle.  Knowing that so many of the ones you love are in the same vehicle is a little concerning, so when we first start out we all pray for safety and thank God profusely when we get home.  I especially like to think about the memories we are making for all the little ones who are going to grow up thinking everyone has a family bus and fills it up with cousin's, aunt's, uncle's and grandparents.  I can honestly say it is the best thing we've ever purchased and when, hopefully in the distant future, it breathes it's last, I can guarantee that we will be online looking for another one.  But we already know that next time we'll have to look for a bigger one.  We are already too big for this one.  Twenty three of us went to the lake and we had to bring a pickup along to not only help hold the luggage, ice chests and other equipment, but also the people who wouldn't fit.

I don't know where our next adventure will take us, but I can relate to the song my granddaughter Wiggy likes to sing when we first pull the bus out on the highway......"On the road again, I just can't wait to get on the road again!"

Fish Hook!

Do you ever have experiences happen to you that make you think "something like this would only happen to me!"  Seems like I have one of those about once a month or so, but today was a doozy!

It all started with a call from hubby dear, asking me to run into town and get him 20 gallons of hydraulic fluid.  Off I went to our local Co-op, went into the office and told the girl what I needed.  She told me it was located in the hay shed and told me where to go.  She said she would send someone out there as soon as they could to load it for me.  I drove around to the back of the building and even though no one is around, I jumped out and let the tailgate down.  The back of the pickup is full of stuff because this weekend we went to a nearby lake with all the kids and grandkids and I hadn't cleaned it all out yet.  I was in the process of moving stuff around so the jugs of oil would fit when I noticed a not very pleasant smell.  I lifted up the lid of an ice chest and sure enough, some meat was left in there.  Thinking that I need to get that out of there when I get home, I shut the lid and started to step away from the pickup when I felt something sharp go into my forearm.  Much to my horror I look down to see a big fish hook very deep in my arm.  I tug on it a little and that suddenly made me remember what they always say about fish hooks having barbs and that you have to push them the rest of the way through in order to get them out.  At that precise moment I knew without a doubt that what they say is absolutely 100% true!   I take a couple seconds to access the situation.  I have this hook deep in my arm, the hook is on a large pole that has two heavy ice chests on top of it, and I can't move.   I think a little, I cry a lot, I holler "can anybody help me",  but no one is there to hear.  Thankfully I had my cell phone, so I got it out of my pocket and try to decide who to call.  Mark is several miles away and I don't think I want to wait that long so I dial the Co-op's  office number.  It doesn't ring.  I try again and again and again.  I am in the bright sun and can hardly see the screen.  Finally I realized the stupid phone is froze up.  (I am sure anyone who has a Samsung phone knows what I am talking about)  So I wait and wait and wait for what seemed like hours.  Finally it starts working again, I made the call and with a very stressed weepy voice say "This is going to be the weirdest phone call you will ever receive, but I have a fish hook stuck in my arm and I can't move so could you please bring a scissors out and cut me free!"   She must have run like the dickens because she was there in no time flat, she and three guys all show up at the same time. I don't know if the three men just happened to show up to load my oil or if they all thought, "Man, I have got to see this!"  I did think one of them was going to pass out.  The sweet girl cut the fishing line which set me free and asked if I needed them to take me to the doctor.  Even though I couldn't stop crying, I felt fine and I said "No, I'm okay, I'm just mad it happened."  So I headed home, gave Mark his oil, showed him my boo-boo, and when he reached his hand out while looking at it I screamed "NO, don't touch it!"  He said, "Norma, I'm not going to but it's got to come out, let me take you to the hospital!"  I said "No, I'm fine, I'm going."  It took a little bit to convince him that I was alright and could drive myself but I finally did and headed back to town.

Feeling like a real idiot because I can't stop crying, they get me in immediately to the sound of my voice telling them "We have to deaden this, PLEASE tell me you are going to deaden this!!!!!!!!!!"  They told me of course they would deaden it so I felt better but still the tears flowed.  I told them I was sorry I was being such a wuss but they said if they had that in their arm they would be a wuss too.  The deadening shot hurt worse than the hook going in but I'm sure it made the removal a tremendous amount more bearable than it would have been without it.  Once the doctor said it was out I felt like a new person.  The nurse told me I did really good, that most men who come in to have one taken out usually pass out before it is done.  So maybe my endless river of tears wasn't so bad after all.

I guess that's one more thing I can cross off of life experiences - I can now say I have had to have a fish hook removed from my body.  I would like to leave you with a "The moral of this story is..............."  But since the only moral is so stinkin obvious I'm just going to go out and do it!  I'm heading out to finish cleaning out the pickup, get the stinky meat out of the ice chest, clean it and the others, remove the fishing poles, snap them in two, run over them with the truck several times, burn them in a very hot fire, and scatter the ashes into the wind!

Not Too Young

On July 4th, 1974, at 2:00 PM,  I was getting married for the second time.  People who were guests at the church where I walked down the isle, had no idea that we were already married and that they were only watching a formality.  One hour earlier, Mark and I said our vows to each other in a hospital waiting room with only our witnesses, parents, and minister present.  We did this so my Dad who was in the hospital with cancer could be with us.  I was seventeen years old and three months pregnant.  Mark had just barely turned nineteen.  I wish I had a dollar for every time we heard that we were too darn young.  I can only imagine the people who were placing wagers on if we would even last a year.  So far, we have been true to our vows.  We stuck with it through times when we were at our best and more times when we were at our worst. (For better for worse)  We have finally made it to a time when it isn't such a struggle financially, but we have seen tough, uncertain times that came from farming and from raising six children. (For richer for poorer)  I am never ever sick but Mark has some major health issues.  (Sickness and health)

One of my biggest pet peeves is when a marriage splits up and I hear someone say, "Well, they just got married too darn young!"  I argue that I don't see what age has to do with it!  I think just as many marriages fail when the bride and groom are in their thirty's as do the ones when they are teens.  Out of my small high school class, several of us got married right out of high school or shortly thereafter and most are still together.  In fact one of them got married when he was sixteen and she was fourteen, they raised two daughters, and are about to celebrate their fortieth anniversary.

Mark and I have said many times that we think getting married so young was good for us, we finished raising each other!  Marrying as young as we did, made it easier for us to mold to one another, to chip away at the two different family dynamics we brought with us, until we had the right combination to form our own, new, unique, family unit that works for us.  Over the years we have both grown so dependent on each other the D-word is not an option.  I think we need to thank all those nay-sayers for telling us how young we were and how we weren't going to make it, and thanks to Mark's aunt who said that I wouldn't make Mark a good wife because I was a "city girl" and he needed to marry a farm girl who would be able to help him with his work.  (I came from a town with a population of 55)  It rubbed me the wrong way and I was out to prove her wrong!  I think (know) that neither Mark or I deserve any credit for beating the odds, for without the good Lord's help we would be just another statistic.  For his love and guidance I am exceedingly grateful!

I do know that thirty seven years has gone way WAY too fast.  I sometimes get blue realizing it would be very unusual for us to be able to spend another thirty seven years together.  Too many couples don't even reach their fiftieth before one of them is called home.  That is only thirteen years away!  How is that possible!?  I'm glad Mark and I started our life together so young.  That many more memories made, that many more experiences shared, that many more fusses and disagreements that we learned from, that much more time to have gotten to know one another inside and out.

 I guess we've come full circle. Now we actually sometimes hear "you're too old for that".  We just smile, knowing that we will never be too old any more than we were ever too young!