Hey Lovelies! It’s me again, finally! And in case you were worried that I was sentenced to a life where technology no longer existed, that was certainly not the case at all. A few things have changed since my last post, and as I sit here, writing this post, I know there are more changes to come (in a good way).
On December 4, 2016, I lost my grandpa. He was 91-years-old, still in his right mind, and had this certain sense of life about him. My grandfather, Joseph, was a Reverend for many years. He was the kind of man who believed in letting the Lord heal him as opposed to relying on doctors and medicines. He knew the Bible like the back of his hand, even when it wasn’t in front of him. More importantly, he was the kind of man who didn’t fear death. The day before his passing, he told my Grams that he wouldn’t be with her much longer. He even gave her Christmas money for my sisters and me to buy Christmas gifts that would allow us to remember him.
As stubborn and stuck in his ways that he was, he always meant well. He wasn’t just someone I saw on holidays and special occasions; I saw him every day. Because aside from him being my grandpa, he was also my next door neighbor, my Pastor, and the man behind the inspiration of my name (my parents thought I was going to be a boy). Because we were fortunate enough to have him until the age of 91, each day gets a little easier in knowing that the Lord only takes the best.
In Sickness & In Health
If you’re new to this blog, you should know that I’m a renal failure advocate. However, if you’re not new here, it’s no secret I’m always preaching the importance of taking care of your kidneys. It’s also no secret my dad was diagnosed with renal failure six years ago and taking dialysis three times a week. But what you don’t know (unless you follow me on Instagram) is that on January 5, 2017, my dad had a heart attack.
I remember getting a call from my older sister who explained he got sick on his way home from dialysis. Luckily, he spotted his brother along the way, flagged him down, and his brother was able to get him an ambulance. On our way to the hospital he was at, my Uncle called. He said my dad had a heart attack and they were going to fly him to a heart hospital. To this day, I can still hear and see the plane taking him away. They ended up doing a stent for one side, but because dialysis had calcified his veins, he was going to need open heart surgery. The day of his surgery was scary due to a number of reasons.
Fast forward to today, he has fully recovered from his triple bypass, back to his normal activities, and giving us all a run for our money. He was in the hospital for a total of 11 days, and my mom, the epitome of Superwoman, was there the entire time; never leaving his side. With God’s will, my parents will be celebrating their 40th wedding anniversary later on this year, and to this day, they still stand by each other’s side in sickness and in health. That’s true love, y’all.
Needless to say, with everything that went on, I stopped blogging, writing, and pretty much everything. My day would consist of working, sitting with my bedridden Grams until her sitter showed up, and passing out on the couch from exhaustion until it was time to do it all over again the next day. But it wasn’t healthy. I was suffering physically and mentally. For the longest time I felt like I needed to dedicate all of my spare time to Grams, to ensure she was okay, even when I knew she was in good hands with someone else. But my family helped me understand that I needed to take care of myself as well. I noticed when I started making my writing a priority again, I was no longer suffering from chest pains or miserableness. I was waking up a happier person, and believe me, I’m no morning person. Sometimes you just have to learn to make some time for you; even if it’s only 30 minutes.
With all of this being said, I’m starting the blog up again (thanks for the encouragement, Mom), focusing on my writing, and making room for some much needed ME TIME.