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I have to tell the plumbing story before I tell Emme’s story.

This house is over 90 years old. I think it was built in 1932? Poor thing, it doesn’t have very responsible occupants.

I may have told you about the leaks in the upstairs bathroom that were affecting the downstairs bathroom? After I repainted the downstairs ceiling I discovered there were still leaks? Well, we were going to get it fixed but the guy kept putting us off, then he said he couldn’t do it, then that pesky pandemic was a great excuse to not do anything, then someone came and fixed it… we thought.

Another problem was in the same spot. When the tub was full, it still dripped. Fortunately, our water heater was pumping out tan water and one of the bathroom sinks developed a steady leak. Well, if there are three problems, it’s probably time to call someone.

God bless Lloyd for having time off in the summer. Normally I’m full of simmering rage at all my teacher friends with their gloriously free summers, but there are times it comes in handy. He stayed home on Friday while the workers replaced pipes, faucets and drains, and also drained the water heater and assessed it. (They don’t think it’s bad enough to replace just yet.)

So, the plumbing is as fixed as it’s going to be for a while, and now there is a downstairs bathroom ceiling to assess. The plumbers were glad that I had made the holes – that means they didn’t have to – but they think we should wait to see if this repair is all that’s needed. Maybe I should put in a drop ceiling?

…. maybe for the house’s 100th birthday…..

All right, let’s get this thing started again. There are some funny stories to tell (Emme got stuck in a wall. She’s fine.) and some things that are just mildly interesting (we are getting ready for a Big Trip in July – my first in decades), but it I can’t really talk about those without addressing that my brother died.

Where to begin?

I don’t like writing about private or personal things for several reasons. There is no way to capture the myriad of thoughts and the complexity of emotions when writing about anything. Also, writing is a permanent medium. What I write today may not be what I think tomorrow, but there’s no way to change that. So, while I don’t want to write about this, I will, but don’t feel like you need to comment. Those are permanent words, too.

My brother Phil died. The news of his hospitalization came at the end of a near-perfect day. Lloyd and I had dropped Brad off at the airport very early, then headed to Omaha where the whole city slept in until noon. (It was Memorial Day) We explored the abandoned city on foot and on electric bikes and it was glorious! In a park-like area I saw an owl! I remember that when we stopped to get gas I leaned back on the car with my eyes closed and thought, “This is a beautiful day.”

….then we got the call from my Dad that Phil was in the hospital. He had called an ambulance due to vomiting blood. Throughout the day and into Tuesday, our family – from afar – did what they could. My Dad gave consent for my other brother to manage Phil’s care and my sister flew out to be with him, thinking she would spend time with him as he recovered. As she was traveling from Minnesota to L.A., his condition worsened and worsened and by the time she touched down, he was gone.

It wasn’t suicide. I know people wonder about things like that. It was, however, exacerbated by his life choices. He had many health issues – a bad heart, kidney trouble, liver trouble, knee trouble, back trouble. The pain in his body prevented him from taking care of himself as he should, and he had some excesses – alcohol especially – that led to his sudden, but not unexpected earthly end.

The next two weeks were so strange. Keren was out there and Lloyd went out to help. Together they navigated the Herculean task of emptying Phil’s apartment. They contacted the hospital, the lawyer, the landlord, and found information about Phil’s various accounts and what to do. From Missouri, my other brother and his wife took care of phone calls and connecting with Phil’s ex-wife. I took a few days to go out and spend time with Dad. We had zoom meetings each night to hear an update from Keren and Lloyd and to figure out next steps. After 12 days they finally got to go home. We are not finished with the process.

Phil was cremated and the funeral will be in early August. We had trouble finding a date where people weren’t at conferences or on a Big Trip, which sounds weird but that’s how it is.

The emotions – I’m not great with them. I spend much of my school days helping young children identify and name what they are feeling and learn to process them, so you think I’d be better at this. (This is another problem with writing things down- one should never complain, especially on the internet.) Phil had many good qualities – a generous heart, a brilliant mind, talent seeping out of every one of his pores – but he also had some that were negative. I loved him, but we didn’t always get along. That sounds heartless, but it is one of the things I’m navigating.

So, there’s that. Our family is doing ok. The promise of salvation is what gets us through this. Phil is in heaven, which is the Real Home for us all. He’s with Mom and the grandparents and Jesus! What a wonderful blessing.

Ok, no comments.

May is busy. Why can’t I remember that? The end of the school year has sooo many things going on. I put off parent-teacher conferences until the beginning of the month, and I’m pretty behind on lots of paperwork. We are still hiring summer staff, so finding time to get it all done has been dicey. Friday I stayed late and got a large chunk of it done and hopefully will finish the rest this week. We have a workday this coming Friday to get ready for the summer program.

Also, there are events! Graduations, celebrations and weddings! This past weekend Samith and Stephannie’s son got married. Ian and Rebecca (his bride) both worked at the Child Development Center for a time, so it was very sweet to be there. The wedding was beautiful and perfect!

Next weekend is another wedding, company and a graduation celebration. Whew!

I’m in the weeds at work. Parent-teacher conferences are coming up and I’m running into time constraints. I meant to put photos together in a dedicated video, but the automatic ‘memory slideshow’ feature will have to do. We had a glorious time! You’ll see a visit with Dad’s sister, Ruth, Uncle David and cousin Steven; dropping off Dad’s books at the seminary; some snippets from an afternoon baseball game where Matthew hit his home run; the hotel room where we hung out as a family and lastly – the confirmation service. You’ll also see the best selfie of Lloyd and Dad!

I love my family! Also, Dad and Keren both made it home safely yesterday – a totally fantastic weekend!

This was a very full weekend. We got the house ready for the Peperkorns to come for their oldest daughter’s graduation (Yay!), and Lloyd and I went down to St. Louis for our nephew’s confirmation (Yay!). It was a great trip where we saw so much family! My Dad even flew out for the event, along with my sister Keren, and we saw Dad’s sister’s family along with Mark and Rachel. The only one we were missing was Phil, but it’s tough for him to get away.

Anyway, in my rush to leave school on Friday I left my iPad there. As weird as it was not having it, I did survive without the constant pull of the internet. However, it is easier for me to pull photos together on that device, so hopefully tomorrow I’ll have some pictures to show.

Have an excellent Monday, everyone! Prayers for safe flights for Keren and Dad would be welcome!

There’s no good way to tell this story without me looking like an idiot, but Brad asked about it, so here goes. Let’s bullet point some backstory.

1. Remember when I would get those weird, itchy toes that would then get a searing pain and then a bruise? No? Well, here’s one instance and here’s another.
2. Last fall I was giving blood, and as the blood started filling the bag, the technician said, “That’s weird. It’s clotting. It’s not supposed to do that – we have anti-coagulants in the bag.” I laughed nervously and asked her to take a photo. There were snake-y like little things in there. Weird enough that I thought, “I should maybe get that checked out.” Of course, I never did.

Ok, now we’re ready for February. Lloyd and I were unloading groceries after church and all of a sudden my left index finger started to have that searing pain. Many, many thoughts ran through my head, but the primary one was, “YOU DUMMY! YOU SHOULD HAVE HAD THAT CLOTTING THING CHECKED OUT. IDIOT. NOW YOU’RE GOING TO HAVE A STROKE SOMETIME AND YOU COULD HAVE DONE SOMETHING. IDIOT.”

Behold my scaly skin, and the bump you can barely see in the middle of my finger.

I would like the record to show that I did not think I was going to die from a hurt finger, but I did wonder if I had clots just running willy-nilly through my veins, getting stuck in little capillaries…. and eventually they would get stuck in my brain. It was Sunday – the clinic wasn’t open, the urgent care place wasn’t open, and I wanted to ask questions right then, because I knew I wouldn’t get it done during the work week.

So we went to the ER.

Yep. I went to the ER for a hurt finger. There wasn’t any bruise at this point, just a minuscule swelling. MINISCULE. The staff did a very professional job not laughing at me, and I could see the inner eye roll of the doctor. I explained the toe thing and the blood clotting thing, and he walked me through preschool-level explanation of what a ‘bruise’ is, and said I probably hurt my finger shoveling snow or unloading groceries. I knew I hadn’t. Grrrrr. He said if I wanted to get some blood tests done, we could do that. Yes, yes I did. So, they took some blood.

Two hours after I left the ER, the vein burst.

I dearly wanted to go back and show the doctor and say, “See? This is what happens,” but I didn’t, because I couldn’t have afforded the second visit. (Oy. Now I know what ‘meeting your deductible’ means. That was an expensive ‘wet paper towel and a pat on the head’.)

I had a visit with my regular doctor later to go over the blood work – this time armed with photos of the toes and finger – and he said he honestly didn’t know what was causing the bruises. I appreciated his honesty. He also said we should do some further bloodwork to check some other things.

So, two things came of this: the first is that the bloodwork shows that I have iron-deficiency anemia, which is unrelated to the bruising. I’m supposed to be taking enormous amounts of iron, which is messing with my guts. We’re getting that figured out.

The second is that thanks to the internet, I found out that the vein thing is called Achenbach’s syndrome, or paroxysmal hematoma. It’s a weird vein thing that some people get. Beth has it and her daughter has it, too. So, there’s that – which is a relief regarding the stroke thing.

So, Brad – I hope that answers your question. I told you it was a long, dumb story. 😀

For Karla, and I’m sure these are all out of order. 😀