In a whirlwind trip to beat a snow storm, we took a much needed trip to a Denver hospital to visit our friend Joy and to stay overnight with cousin Lea and her family.
It was a total mom coordinated kind of trip, and this is a total mom kind of recap of the event. After finding doggy day and night care, as well as packing suitcases, snow pants and snacks, we were ready to hit the road.
We took the kids out of school early yesterday, and headed south, hitting every possible amount of bumper to bumper stop-n-go traffic as we possibly could, reaching Swedish Medical about supper time, when all the kids were starving. As we reviewed the rules of hospital etiquette, jumped up and down to get the car wiggles out, we thoroughly scrubbed our faces and hands up to our elbows. No germs were going in that room on our behalf! Now it was off to find Roy and Joy.
Upon entering the cramped but clean upper floor room, we adjusted our eyes to the lady at the center of all the attention. And what a blessed sight indeed! In our brief visit with our dear friends, and truly my children's adopted grandparents, we shared some hugs and a few quiet smiles. Still a long way from recovery and an even a longer way from home, Joy is as wonderful as she always is. Her hearing is impeccable, a gift only a former school teacher can hold on to. There was little laughter in the room until Lars, in all his glory and to my complete horror, said, "Mommy, Joy looks like an elephant". In my humiliation, I look up at her to see if she heard him. Oh yes, she did. And she actually started laughing. Finally! ! In that shoulder bobbing, chest heaving way that only Joy laughs. Only without any sound whatsoever.
When it was time to go, we took Roy with us to find food. Joy badly wanted to go and I promised her pizza as soon as she could stand up and chase us! We took Roy to the parking garage, only to lead him on a wild goose chase to find a lost car and then watch him miss a step down and crash to the ground in a barrel roll. At least we were at a hospital.
If you love pizza and you're ever in Denver, Rico's on Broadway is the place to be. Literally a hole in the wall, this family owned Italian eatery with exposed brick, tons of character and wall photos to prove the town of Rico really exists, is top notch. Regardless of the fact that I was hungry enough to eat my own shoe leather, it was the best pizza I've had since The Villa closed in Lapeer. (Dad, I'm not joking-a must try! ) I'm still drooling. Unfortunately for me, I spent more time cutting up pizza pieces, blowing on them to cool them off, and keeping kids who had been well behaved all day, occupied. I was only just beginning dinner when everybody else was ready to go. I was not too proud to take a child in each hand to cross the parking lot with a hot piece of pizza still hanging out of my mouth.
After dropping Roy back off at the hospital, we headed north to cousin Lea's is house for the night, arriving well after bedtime & well ahead of the blizzard. The kids got settled in and we were all quickly asleep. Until midnight. When Elia woke up, coughing and crying and wheezing like a smoker. Three hours later, everybody was back to sleep and three hours later... good morning Lars!
After playing with baby Caleb and a hot and hearty breakfast, we were repacking the car. I picked up the trash and of all the lids to pop off, it was of course the one that was half full of melted chocolate milkshake. All over the floor and blankets it went. (This just hours before a bump in the road dropped Lars cherry slushy all over the backseat & floor). No, I didn't just detail the car on Friday morning. Nope. Not me.
Less than 24 after our departure, we were back home, unpacking the car, starting laundry and pulling out the carpet cleaner to steam clean the diarrhea Sprite left for me all over the upstairs carpet. Love my Bissell. Had no idea she was a nervous dog.
In closing, an anecdotal that I shared with Joy around thanksgiving time;
Every Sunday in church, Pastor says a set of prayers and one line is the same every single week, ending with the words. "...and bless our homes with joy." Roy and Joy sit at the end of our pew so I always look over at her when he says that. I told her at Thanksgiving that every time I hear those words I think how much my home and my life IS blessed with her, Joy. She laughed her laugh and said, "Oh Sarah!"And then she squeezed my hand and smiled.
Yes, Lord, bless our homes with Joy.
