I am married to a one year old: a look back at 2018
That's right, you read it. 1 year old. Her birthday is today, Christmas Day.
Ok Maybe her birthday 2.0
One year ago today, at this time, my wife Tiffany was in the operating room at The Ohio State University's Ross Heart Hospital. The transplant team was hard at work with Dr. Bassam Shukrallah overseeing the operation. It was a stressful day but the first of many awesome days as she started down the road to recovery.
She was released from the hospital January 8th. She was so happy to be home with nothing attached. She left her LVAD, pacemaker, and defibrillator in the operating room. She slept a lot the first 2 months. She was able to go out for short periods of time to see family or go to church.
By early ,March she was feeling strong enough that the transplant team let her travel to Myrtle Beach. She sat in the sand and cried, telling me that just a few months earlier she thought she would never see the beach again.
Before her new heart came, she had promised my sister, a breast cancer survivor, that she would walk the Susan G. Komen Race for the Cure with her. In May, she did just that. It was hard on her, and she had to stop a few times. But she finished. We were all so proud of her, and of my sister. Couple of warriors right here.
In the same month, on the 31st, Tiffany and I were able to live out a what had been a lifelong dream. We closed on our new home. And not just any home. Our dream home. This large ranch on 2 acres checked every box on our wish list and then some. Fenced back yard? Yep. Outbuilding? How about 2 with power and water? First floor master and laundry, and a giant basement perfect for entertaining. It was home. And while we hadn't planned on moving to Cardington, Ohio, we love it here and feel like we belong.
We got settled in and began our new life. But the next couple of month were going to be rough, starting on July 16th. My Uncle Steve was my birth father's brother. And while we have never been extremely close to that side of the family, I do have great memories of him from my childhood. I remember him bringing groceries to my mother when she was a struggling single mom. I remember him making jokes and smiling. And I remember him getting shocked when he was on the front porch during a lightning storm.
Just 5 days later, my Papaw's wife, Lina passed away. Although they had married in 1990, she had been a part of our family for as long as I could remember. I grew up calling her Mamaw Fyffe, as her daughter had married my Uncle in the 70's and our families were very close. Her sons, Billy and Dennis were my childhood friends, and she herself had developed an awesome friendship with my wife.
As the rollercoaster of 2018 continued, September rolled around. And just 5 days in, I became a grandpa for the first time. Or, should I say, the first and second times. My son, John-Michael David and his girlfriend Nakisha welcomed their identical twin boys on September 5th. John-Michael Anthony and Jerome-Austin Thomas were (and are) perfect little bundles on awesome. Several of my friends who had already become grandparents had told me I would love being a Grandpa. They were right. Those little boys make me smile everyday even when I don't see them. Being around them would ease the pain that was yet to come in September.
As we were on the emotional high and getting used to the new normal, another curveball came our way. On September 16th, my cousin's daughter Jazzy passed away at 11. She was an inspiring little girl with a magnetic personality. Her loss was a tremendous blow to my Aunt and Uncle who were so close to her.
They say these things come in threes, so I was hoping hers would be the last family funeral we would attend this year. That, as it turned out, would not be the case.
The morning of September 29th was simply beautiful. The sun was shining on our country home as we were getting ready to head to our annual company picnic. An event a year in the making, this day was going to be a blast. It is always a day of fun and fellowship outside of the frantic paced nature of what we do for a living.
I was loading the car when my phone rang. It was my sister, Angelia. Not unusual, we generally talk several times a week. I answered the phone, and her words stopped me in my tracks. In tears, she told me she believed she had lost Mike.
"Mike" is our Dad, if you didn't know.
She hung up and I hung on her words, waiting for a call back. 3 minutes seemed like an eternity as my shoulders and chest tightened. Not now. Not today. Please.
I called her husband David. He answered. I asked the question I didn't want to ask. He gave me the answer I did not want to hear. "He is gone, Michael." It was a punch to the gut, a devastating blow that could have broken me like the loss of my mother did before. More on that later.
Instantly our plan changed and we were in Bryan, Ohio before the afternoon. The next week saw us making trips to Illinois for funeral planning, back to Ohio to get packed, then back to Illinois to lay him to rest where he belonged, next to his soulmate, my mother.
He was truly the greatest man I have ever known.
As we laid him to rest, John-Michael said that if the Red Sox won the World Series, we should come back and put a pennant on his grave.
They won.
By the time November rolled around, we were ready for a break from real life. We drove to the condo on Cape Cod, which has become a gift to me from my Dad. It was a bittersweet trip as we enjoyed the trip wishing he was there with us, while believing he probably was. We had dinner at Regina Pizzeria with our dear friend and fellow heart transplant recipient (9-7-17) Steve. He is a part of our family and not too bad for a Michigan Man. Seriously, we love him like family and are grateful for his tour of the North End and Little Italy that no guide could have ever given us!
Now hear I sit in my dream home on Christmas Day. In an hour and a half our house will be full of friends and family, as it was this past Saturday for Christmas # 1. And I am blessed. We are blessed
Tiffany, I am so glad you are here with me. Not only do I love waking up to you everyday, I know that when I lost my Dad I would have fallen down like I did when my Mother died if it hadn't been for you. You are my rock, my rock star, my inspiration, my voice of reason, my soulmate, and the love of my life. This has been an incredible year, both good and bad. I cannot wait to see what the rest of our lives has in store for us!
Day # 2124.
Days # 365 with a new heart.
Happy Birthday Jesus.
Happy Heartiversary Tiffany.
God is Great
Merry Christmas Everyone.
Ok Maybe her birthday 2.0
One year ago today, at this time, my wife Tiffany was in the operating room at The Ohio State University's Ross Heart Hospital. The transplant team was hard at work with Dr. Bassam Shukrallah overseeing the operation. It was a stressful day but the first of many awesome days as she started down the road to recovery.
She was released from the hospital January 8th. She was so happy to be home with nothing attached. She left her LVAD, pacemaker, and defibrillator in the operating room. She slept a lot the first 2 months. She was able to go out for short periods of time to see family or go to church.
By early ,March she was feeling strong enough that the transplant team let her travel to Myrtle Beach. She sat in the sand and cried, telling me that just a few months earlier she thought she would never see the beach again.
Before her new heart came, she had promised my sister, a breast cancer survivor, that she would walk the Susan G. Komen Race for the Cure with her. In May, she did just that. It was hard on her, and she had to stop a few times. But she finished. We were all so proud of her, and of my sister. Couple of warriors right here.
In the same month, on the 31st, Tiffany and I were able to live out a what had been a lifelong dream. We closed on our new home. And not just any home. Our dream home. This large ranch on 2 acres checked every box on our wish list and then some. Fenced back yard? Yep. Outbuilding? How about 2 with power and water? First floor master and laundry, and a giant basement perfect for entertaining. It was home. And while we hadn't planned on moving to Cardington, Ohio, we love it here and feel like we belong.
We got settled in and began our new life. But the next couple of month were going to be rough, starting on July 16th. My Uncle Steve was my birth father's brother. And while we have never been extremely close to that side of the family, I do have great memories of him from my childhood. I remember him bringing groceries to my mother when she was a struggling single mom. I remember him making jokes and smiling. And I remember him getting shocked when he was on the front porch during a lightning storm.
Just 5 days later, my Papaw's wife, Lina passed away. Although they had married in 1990, she had been a part of our family for as long as I could remember. I grew up calling her Mamaw Fyffe, as her daughter had married my Uncle in the 70's and our families were very close. Her sons, Billy and Dennis were my childhood friends, and she herself had developed an awesome friendship with my wife.
As the rollercoaster of 2018 continued, September rolled around. And just 5 days in, I became a grandpa for the first time. Or, should I say, the first and second times. My son, John-Michael David and his girlfriend Nakisha welcomed their identical twin boys on September 5th. John-Michael Anthony and Jerome-Austin Thomas were (and are) perfect little bundles on awesome. Several of my friends who had already become grandparents had told me I would love being a Grandpa. They were right. Those little boys make me smile everyday even when I don't see them. Being around them would ease the pain that was yet to come in September.
As we were on the emotional high and getting used to the new normal, another curveball came our way. On September 16th, my cousin's daughter Jazzy passed away at 11. She was an inspiring little girl with a magnetic personality. Her loss was a tremendous blow to my Aunt and Uncle who were so close to her.
They say these things come in threes, so I was hoping hers would be the last family funeral we would attend this year. That, as it turned out, would not be the case.
The morning of September 29th was simply beautiful. The sun was shining on our country home as we were getting ready to head to our annual company picnic. An event a year in the making, this day was going to be a blast. It is always a day of fun and fellowship outside of the frantic paced nature of what we do for a living.
I was loading the car when my phone rang. It was my sister, Angelia. Not unusual, we generally talk several times a week. I answered the phone, and her words stopped me in my tracks. In tears, she told me she believed she had lost Mike.
"Mike" is our Dad, if you didn't know.
She hung up and I hung on her words, waiting for a call back. 3 minutes seemed like an eternity as my shoulders and chest tightened. Not now. Not today. Please.
I called her husband David. He answered. I asked the question I didn't want to ask. He gave me the answer I did not want to hear. "He is gone, Michael." It was a punch to the gut, a devastating blow that could have broken me like the loss of my mother did before. More on that later.
Instantly our plan changed and we were in Bryan, Ohio before the afternoon. The next week saw us making trips to Illinois for funeral planning, back to Ohio to get packed, then back to Illinois to lay him to rest where he belonged, next to his soulmate, my mother.
He was truly the greatest man I have ever known.
As we laid him to rest, John-Michael said that if the Red Sox won the World Series, we should come back and put a pennant on his grave.
They won.
By the time November rolled around, we were ready for a break from real life. We drove to the condo on Cape Cod, which has become a gift to me from my Dad. It was a bittersweet trip as we enjoyed the trip wishing he was there with us, while believing he probably was. We had dinner at Regina Pizzeria with our dear friend and fellow heart transplant recipient (9-7-17) Steve. He is a part of our family and not too bad for a Michigan Man. Seriously, we love him like family and are grateful for his tour of the North End and Little Italy that no guide could have ever given us!
Tiffany, I am so glad you are here with me. Not only do I love waking up to you everyday, I know that when I lost my Dad I would have fallen down like I did when my Mother died if it hadn't been for you. You are my rock, my rock star, my inspiration, my voice of reason, my soulmate, and the love of my life. This has been an incredible year, both good and bad. I cannot wait to see what the rest of our lives has in store for us!
Day # 2124.
Days # 365 with a new heart.
Happy Birthday Jesus.
Happy Heartiversary Tiffany.
God is Great
Merry Christmas Everyone.
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