Vernon under hearts, mostly sleeping now. Photo: Allison Adams.
It’s been quite awhile since I’ve posted anything here on the Blank Slate blog. The last was from France when I did little but refer you to daughter Allison’s blog: Sans Oxygen.
Don’t know why this lull; normally I’m full of thoughts and am grateful for this avenue to express them. Sometimes I wonder if it’s the empty room syndrome . . . it’s hard to know if anybody’s out there. But no matter, this was not to express my momentary melancholy (though wallowing can be so fun, at least for awhile).
Anyway, I’ve got some ideas, and I’m thinking before long I’ll be up and at it again, with whatever strikes me and I think might strike you.
In the meantime, I’m loath to break the silence with the current news, but what can be done? It looks like we’re approaching D Day.
I always wondered what the D stood for in D Day. Then I read The Longest Day and learned it didn’t stand for anything. It was just the name Eisenhower and staff labeled the day they’d launch their invasion and all hell would break loose . . . whatever that day might be.
In this case I could give D a name: Death!
For Vernon, Allison’s husband and father of two children, that day is all but upon us.
I’ll not belabor with details. If you want them, as well as some very adult, philosophical, literary, vulnerable and honest processing of it all, go to Allison’s blog. You’ll be deepened if you do.
It’s sad . . . of course it’s sad. But the sadness started over two years ago. Vernon wasn’t supposed to survive that collision between his scooter and the truck. Through medical alertness he was pulled back from death then . . . but never all the way back. The severe brain trauma kept him from being ever his true self, then there was his body, deformed and spindly with no use, and then the kidney failure due to the long coma that kept him on dialysis multiple times a week, always with the attendance of family or friends lest he pull his tubes out or wriggle out of the chair onto the floor. And there have been many operations. It’s been no way to live.
Do I sound callous? I hope not. It’s just how it is. Happily I know, by my conversations with Vernon over the years, where he’s going. And I know Allison is strong; she’s showed us that.
The fact is, D Day could be tomorrow. Or if not then, another tomorrow . . . but not many. All options for further dialysis ran out two weeks ago and they gave him two weeks to go.
I just wanted you to know.
That’s it. I’ll blog on happier topics another day. I’ll hope you’re there.
_____
PS I don’t want you to think I speak so highly of Allison because she’s our daughter; here’s a comment from a friend of hers, Dorothy Dunn, a woman more my age than Allison’s:
Everyone wants a hero. While you are rushing around looking for the man/woman with the red cape, look closer at those you are walking life with. We are surrounded by people who defy the odds of their history, smile through their suffering, and demonstrate grace. I love my hero. She picks herself up each day and brings herself new to the challenges ahead. Her tears rest on the surface, her laughter comes from her depths. She has met words and promises made in the past head on. She is a teacher; an inspirer; a mother; a friend and a wife. Please keep her in your prayers as she says goodbye to Vernon. She knows her strength comes from the Lord. This is for my girl; my hero: Allison Moore Adams. —Dorothy Dunn
Our Lives Together
Its About Life
6:04 pm
You are each HEROES to me. How much you have taught me, as a beautiful family who is allowing these difficult and life changing experiences to be shared.
You remind me what death and preparing for it is all about. Christ is REAL in your lives. Thank you!❤️
6:04 pm
Yes, I believe Allison is one of the truly brave women and mother and daughter and wife to have gone through the sad times she has. But she has her family there as well as the good Lord holding her hand and that of her husband as he passes from this life. May god bless and keep you all in your sorrow and faith.
I pray for strength for all of you.
6:05 pm
Thank you for the word, Hyatt. I’m with you in this.
6:16 pm
I have followed this journey since Allison created the blog. I have been amazed as she has expressed herself so eloquently. She truly is a hero as Dorothy Dunn so beautifully stated. Our prayers have been with Allison, Vernon, Maki, and Justine throughout, and for you and Anne, and the rest of the family and will continue in the days ahead.
6:49 pm
I never so clearly understood nor firmly believed the words James wrote in his letter: “My brethren, count it all joy when you fall into various trials, knowing that the testing of your faith produces patience. But let the patience have its perfect work, that you may be perfect and complete, lacking nothing.” We have been privileged to see the perfecting of your daughter, Allison, over these past two years. Even as I grieve for her, I’ll be praising God for the work He has been doing in her life and in ours through her.
7:50 pm
Our time to mourn, with you, Hyatt, is near. As you have taught us, a bittersweet part of life that must be lived and embraced… for a season. Your words, although sad, bear an underlying hope. Thanks for sharing. Huge love in this hour, your way.
7:59 pm
Thanks, Hyatt. And glad you’re writing here again. Look forward to our gathering soon to honor Vernon and surround Allison. Praying for you and Anne as well.
9:59 pm
Hyatt, thanks for sharing the Vernon update. My heart is heavy to hear such news. My prayer is with your family. There’s no words to comfort during the grieving process, except for the hope in the Lord and the comfort from Him. May His closeness be Allison’s strength.
10:09 pm
Thank you Hyatt. Hard to find the right words. You did. I can’t right now, except to say thanks.
2:19 pm
Hyatt, fully know what you mean re. the “empty room.” It’s OK. We’ll lift Vernon’s life, and Allison, to our merciful Father in heaven, who holds the keys to life & death.
4:47 pm
No longer bound to a stiff and damaged body, the butterfly forces it’s way out of the cocoon. It is not death, but another stage of life, for “this is not our home.” Be released Vernon, into the arms of a loving Savior who welcomes you! And for those left here, we pray for peace, comfort, hope and faith!
8:19 pm
Your friends and Alllison’s are a comfort. I have friends who’ve followed Allison and Vernon all these months and now are grieving alongside – they’ve told me so, and they haven’t met any of you. The power of words. The power of God’s comfort and reality of life beyond. God bless us everyone. Blogged, too. And will send my readers here and there:
http://welcomeheart.com/journal/2016/08/23/journal20160823alongsidedness-html.html
4:40 pm
Hyatt,
Have been following Allison for the past 2+ years. God alone can help all who have so much sympathy for them. He is the God that we need everyday and Allison is learning more about the going home of a saint every day. No idea why he was left here to suffer but I have a idea that Justine was so young and Maki was young also. Now they have had the chance to get used to Vernon leaving. and there is no telling where the kids may go with have a Dad who was so sick for so long. Our love and prayers are with you all.
Becky
10:56 am
We rejoice with Allison and your family that Vernon is finally free from his earthly struggle and that she can begin the task in earnest of moving on with the next chapter in her life…richer for having known and shared a life with Vernon, and so much stronger for having gone through this immense challenge.
4:03 pm
We hurt with you today.
6:32 am
I am so sorry for your losS – Prayers being said every day for Allison, Maki, Justine and the entire family!
2:21 pm
My prayers of comfort go to you, Allison and your entire family. We have all gained from watching the strength, love and faith in your family. Version will always be surrounded and
remembered with love.
8:31 am
What a courageous family. May he rest in peace, and your family remember him always. Sending love and prayers.