brown-eyed boy

It’s the little things…  

Like…

My Sweet Hubby’s (MSH) gorgeous brown eyes.

When I met him, about 36 years ago, they're what got my heart pounding and my brain to be unable to think straight. They are so dark brown they’re almost black. They’re kind. Sweet. Mischievous. Strong. Caring. Loving. And full of FUN. They often pierce my soul.

TLC and I have noticed in the past couple of years that the TV weather peeps call bad weather situations—like storms, rain or ice, tornadoes, wind, floods, etc.—weather “events.” We think that’s a little silly. And, actually, sometimes kind of confusing. We find ourselves wondering: “Is this ‘event’ scary? Dangerous? Significant?” I mean, seems like a tornado is a tornado. Not something that ends up sounding like a celebration.

Anyway, I thought of this terminology while I was sitting in a Cath Lab Waiting Room in Ft. Worth late Friday afternoon. Last week, MSH had a “heart event.” That’s what I decided we should call it. He didn’t believe it was a full-blown heart attack. But, at 1:30 a.m. Thursday morn, he knew something wasn’t right. TLC and Little Leighton were at our casa because TLC was going on a Bachelorette Weekend Adventure to Gruene, Texas. (One of her best buddies is getting hitched in July. TLC had looked forward to this for at least two months. It would have been her first night away from Little Leighton in over eight months. MSH and I were to babysit. We ALL couldn’t wait!)

When us (we?) gals woke up around 6:00 a.m., TLC and I looked at MSH and knew something wasn’t right. He confessed his fears. TLC made plans to head east back home. Clearly, we weren’t going to be babysitting. Not this time. She needed to cancel her trip. She’d have been too far away—physically and in spirit—if she’d tried to go. I took Teddy Buddy Boo Bear to our Vet to board him. Got there right when they opened. With, obviously, no reservation. And, as I knew they would, they welcomed him with open arms. I said: “I have no idea when I can pick him up.” To which they replied: “Don’t worry about him. We’ve got it.”

Bottom lining this story at this point:

MSH was admitted to the hospital soon after we arrived mid-Thursday morning. On Friday afternoon, he had an angiogram. One artery was blocked 99%. (Not 100%. 99! I’m not going to lie—that kind of tickles us. We hope you don’t think it’s wrong to find some humour in this challenge!) That one got a stent. One artery was good. One was funky and couldn’t be stented. Bypass wasn’t going to be appropriate at this time, either. The cardiologist believes it can at least stay the same for many years with the right meds and a change in MSH’s diet. (He has to quit salting tater chips. Imagine that.)

From noon on Friday until 12:30 a.m. Saturday morning, MSH had it tough. It was breaking MY heart to see him in such pain. So uncomfortable and discouraged. Once he could finally get up from the bed in his room, and the nurses could do what they needed to do so he could go to sleep, I was able to crash on my not-so-comfy couchbed/futon thingy about 2:00 a.m. I cried into my pillow. And thought about MSH’s eyes. How I couldn’t bear to not see them every day. Every night. I made a lot of promises to God I’m not sure I can keep. I will try. I will. I begged him to let me have as many years as possible with those Big Brown Eyes.

We got to come back home on Saturday afternoon. As I type this, MSH is outside on our front porch. Rocking. With Teddy Buddy Boo Bear. Being grateful to our Lord God Almighty for more time. For his eyes to continue to see the beauty we see every lucky day we’re alive from our piece of country heaven.

The little things…mean everything…

Look into some eyes you love tonight…or tomorrow…or SOON...tell them how GORGEOUS they are, okay?