Flying With Eagles

Tomorrow is another birthday. For Goose. He has had 31 so far and tomorrow marks 32.

This year has brought many, many, MANY changes for my son. He is a daddy now. He loves it. It's so fun to watch him embrace daddy-hood.

Goose is no longer with the Hotshots. He decided that being gone the entire Summer is not what he had in mind for his family. He was offered a job that ensured he would be home every night. He accepted. Goose is over quite a few fire agencies now and will make sure fires are fought and battles won.

I think his decision shared excitement and anticipation with sadness. As "the season" approaches I think he feels relief at not leaving his family, but yet is saddened to not be with his "brother-family". I get it. However, I'm SUPER excited to have him home to enjoy birthdays, family barbecues and hot tubbing.

It's funny how you break routine without thinking about it. In hindsight, it was the best thing ever. But why? Interesting.

I needed a bath. I learned a long time ago that if I check voicemail or email that "POOF" - my day is gone before I know it. Therefore, anything I needed for myself came first NO MATTER WHAT.

Except THAT day.

I was getting ready to run a tub. Jaden was a little guy and still in bed.

I checked my messages.

"This is Officer so-and-so. Your son has been in an accident. You need to call the hospital."

What? Did I hear that right?

I knew it would be faster to drive to the hospital.

Josh was living with us. I yelled down the stairs that one of the boys was hurt. I was heading to the hospital. "You've got Jaden."

I didn't even wait for an answer.

I got in the jeep and took off.

I SWEAR TO YOU that was the loooooongest drive in FOREVER.

In reality it was MAYBE five minutes.

Was Tyson in a wreck on his way to work? What had happened to him?

I got to the hospital.

"My son is here. I need to get to him."

"What's his name?"

"I don't know."

The nurse looked at me quizzically.

"Last name is Deason, but I don't know for sure if it's Tyson or Kadell."

The nurse led me to a room with Goose sitting in a bed.

"Goose." I whispered.

They were wheeling out an X-ray machine and I heard the doctor say "Nothing is broke."

It's funny how unimportant things bear witness to what is REALLY happening.

Goose had his hand on towels. ALOT of towels.

I said to him "At least nothing is broke."

I had no idea what had happened. Why was he there? He looked fine. Why was he there? Why did a cop call me? Why was he there? Why was he NOT in X-ray? Why did they wheel in a machine? Why was he there?

Then my little boy lifted his hand off the towels. His flesh hung down. I could see his bones, tendons and all the gunk that make up a hand.

I reeled out of the room and sat on the floor outside of his door - head between my knees - fighting nausea and the blackness creeping. I heard Goose say loudly "DO NOT CRY MOM."

I didn't.

I stood up. Brushed my butt and headed back in.

Long story short? While employed at Powder River making livestock fencing, Goose had rolled his arm in the machine that bends metal. It popped his hand. I knew beyond any belief that we were going to lose his hand.

After transferring to a different hospital and sitting FOREVER in the ER watching nurses come in to drug him and wash his wounds, the surgeon came in. He did a few tests and announced "I can save his hand."

I couldn't believe it. Guess what? After multiple surgeries and a very long hospital stay, he SAVED HIS HAND.

Through all of that trauma, Goose kept a cool head and a steady soul. He kept ME calm while he suffered and bled.

In 1987, Sammy Hagar released the song "Eagles Fly". First of all, I love, love, LOVE Sammy. Second of all, this song has ALWAYS reminded me of Goose. Always.

Sunday morning 9 a.m.
I saw fire in the sky
I felt my heart pound in my chest
I heard an eagle cry
Now I'm alive I can breathe the air
I watch an eagle rise above the trees
Project myself into what he sees
Take me away
Come on fly away
Take me up so high
Where eagles fly
I often dream I sail through the sky
I've always wished I could fly
The simple life of a bird on the wing
Oh Lord, I could sing
I'm alive, I breathe the air
Wash the earth from my face
I catch a glimpse of another dream
I turn, I look but there's no trace

Come on, let's fly away where eagles fly.

Goose will soar through 32. He will keep steady and will surely win this race called Life. If you haven't had a chance to soar among the Eagles, meet my guy. I get to do it EVERY single day.

Happy birthday, my son. I'm so very proud of you.

You're Gonna Live Forever

In October of 1977, John Mayer entered our world. In November of 2016, he released the album The Search For Everything. One of the songs on that album is named You're Gonna Live Forever In Me. On Friday, March  22 at  9:30 a.m. that is the song I heard while heading to a memorial for my dear friend Beckie.

...And you're gonna live forever in me
I guarantee, it's your destiny

Mark drove me to Orem to see my dear friend for the last time.

It was a small service held at a church. Five of her kids stood and shared a few stories. First thought I had was "I can't believe how much I learned from her on this mommy stuff". I found that the stories could have each been told by MY kids. This made me smile.

Then, I reflected how a lifetime, HER lifetime, could be summed up in a few short sentences.

I miss my Beckie. Let me make sure you understand - I MISS MY BECKIE.

Beckie believed in me. She celebrated the good and mourned the bad. When hurricanes struck while I lived in Virginia, it was Beckie who called to check on me.

Beckie could sew. I mean that lady could sew. She knew her fabric and how to handle each.

Many, many, MANY times I enlisted her expertise to sew what I needed. When I was pregnant with Tanna, I became pretty desperate for maternity clothes to cover my expanding belly. I asked Beck to make me some cute overalls.

Before long, the mailman brought a slip stating that I had a package at the Post Office. I was so excited. I got the kids ready and walked to the Post Office in Ojai. I was clutching that slip.

The Post Office was by a park. I handed over the sweaty, wrinkled sheet; grabbed the package; thanked the postal worker; gathered the kids and went to the park. I held the package, return address from Beckie, unopened.

While the kids played, I sat in the warm grass and opened my handmade maternity clothes. I was super excited. Imagine my surprise when the clothes weren't there. In their place was the cutest fabric bear with matching basket, a wall quilt and a VERY silky, long black nighty. I was stunned.

"I just wanted to do something special for you."

Those were the words I heard when I called my friend to thank her.

Beckie was not gifted with an easy life. It seems she learned struggle and sadness and loneliness and grief at an early age. I'm not sure that she ever knew how wonderful she truly was. She was, you know. Wonderful.

She developed dementia. However, she kept her humor and, at times, I still bore witness to the twinkle in her eyes and the lightness in her step.

When her oldest boy, André, messaged to let me know that Beckie was not in a good place and we were probably going to lose her, I hit my knees.

Afterglow was released by Sarah McLachian in 2003. The song Answer plays from my iPod. Man, I love this song.

I will be the answer at the end of the line
I will be there for you while you take the time
In the burning of uncertainty I will be your solid ground
I will hold the balance if you can't look down
If it takes my whole life I won't break I won't bend
It'll all be worth it worth it in the end
'Cause I can only tell you what I know
That I need you in my life
When the stars have all gone out
You'll still be burning so bright.

Cast me gently into morning
For the night has been unkind
Take me to a place so holy
That I can wash this from my mind
The memory of choosing not to fight

From that moment, this song has played over and over in my mind. Let's be honest, it still plays for me.

I miss my Beckie. I miss the long talks. I miss her smile. Her laughter. Her humor.

I miss the light in her eyes.

I long for her hugs.

She offered sturdy, unfailing friendship. She changed my life.

What I would give to have my friend whole; to hold her hand one more minute. I would whisper "It'll all be worth it, worth it in the end."

Beckie, I hope, NO I PRAY with all my might, that you were cast gently into morning, for I know your night was unkind.

Rebecca (Eldridge) Hoyt

July 03, 1957 - March 19, 2019