In a word, I was scared. I think we all were. Well, everyone except for dear baby Carter who (miraculously) was sound asleep a few feet away.
Whatever illness it is mom has been fighting with got the best of her last night. The coughing reached the point where it almost resembled one of my most fearsome barks. The pain from all of it brought her to tears. I knew it. Dad knew it. She knew it.
She was scared. I even heard the words “emergency room” mentioned once or twice.
Instead, they powered through and somehow managed to salvage an hour or two of sleep. But it wasn’t over. A sense of panic filled the walls of our forever home from the moment dear Carter woke. Whatever this thing is needed to involve a doctor. But what to do about work? What to do about Carter?
Within minutes, my dear grandma arrived at the scene. Dad went to work. Mom went to the doctor. And she and Carter and I played the day away. When mom came back, she had news that at least brought light to the situation.
Walking pneumonia. From the ground up, it doesn’t sound good.
So grandma stayed until dad came home from work. And mom rested as best she could with all the coughing. I snuggled as best I could as she struggled to get comfortable.
But today wasn’t about me. Today was about dear grandma coming to the rescue in our time of need. As she walked in the door, I felt my fear turn to relief. I knew that while she can’t fix anything (no one can), she could at least bring a sense of comfort to the situation.
And that is exactly what she did.
So today I am grateful for my dear grandma, and for all of those like her who have ever rushed to someone in need to give them whatever they needed, no questions asked. You are all heroes in my book.