Still Hunt-ing

My nephew, Chad, with his Hunt Girls entourage.

From left to right: Rachel Hunt, me (Patricia Hunt Doughty), Tenny Hunt Morgan, Alicia Hobson, Chad Hunt, Lydia Morgan, Toni Hunt Hobson, Deanna Doughty, Mama (Alice) Hunt.

My sisters, at first, didn't include Chad's new wife, but we appealed the decision stating that she was the only one of the girls (other than Mama) with the legal name Hunt.

Not to mention the fact that she's absolutely darling and going to give birth in August to a HUNT!

It Runs in the Family

My children tell me all the time that I'm crazy. I certainly enjoy having fun.

Take Saturday, for example. We've been eating outside on the deck as much as possible since it's only comfortable enough in Georgia for two weeks in the Spring. Then it's just too hot. I set the table outside, then called to the children. Daelyn was riding bikes through the backyards with some boys from down the road. One of them had brought a bike ramp over to our yard and the kids were jumping their bikes.

After we sat to eat, Deanna said, "I sure wish they'd leave the ramp. I'd like to try it." Daelyn quickly called to his friend in the backyard and asked if we could keep it for a while. His friend agreed and left the ramp behind. We gobbled down our dinner, then the children and I grabbed our bikes out of the shed and began running them through the yard and over the ramp.

There were some great crashes. Don sat on the deck watching, shaking his head. It was very fun. Although the children are all a little bruised and sore, Mama ruled the yard and the ramp!

When my children comment about their crazy mother, I remind them that I got it honestly, as you can see from this picture. It was taken just after my mother (who'll turn 77 this year) tackled my 52 year old sister last Sunday. It seems being a Hunt means being a little crazy.

My children just haven't grown into their Hunt-ness yet.

Memories of Last Weekend

Just a few pictures from last weekend. Unfortunately, while I took my camera, it sat in the hotel room through all the festivities until Sunday. All the following pictures were taken in or around Chili's in Buckhead, an upscale part of Atlanta.

The first picture shows the members of the Hunt Clan who were able to attend the wedding and get together for lunch on Sunday before flying to California, D.C., and driving to Statesboro, Augusta, and Alabama. The next is my nephew, Wilfred Charles Hunt II (or Chad, as we call him), my brother Chuck's oldest son with two of his adult female cousins. The one on his right is my niece Alicia, the grad student, who is my sister Toni's daughter and the one on his left is Lydia, my sister Tenny's daughter who lives in D.C. and works for a Congressman from Georgia, Paul Braun (who's not in the picture - he's not of Hunt heritage!). Can you see the family resemblance? I find it amazing that they all have different parents.

I'll post some more tomorrow.

Today's Dawning

Today was my day in the Kindergarten classroom. About mid-morning, it occurred to me that my father probably had forgotten where I was today. We try and keep each other in the loop as to our comings and goings. So, I slipped away to the Teacher's Lounge to give him a quick call.

"I HAD forgotten, hon," he told me.

"I suppose Mom and Tenny have gone to the hospital to be there when Amanda stands for the first time," I responded.

"Yep," he said. "And just after they left, Trina called to say that Amanda not only stood on her own, but shuffled backwards a little without the walker."

The news left me totally breathless. It was more than we could have hoped for.

I went to each of the children's classrooms to fill them in. Then, after school, I suggested that we take off for the hospital for a celebration with Amanda.

Trina was thrilled to see the children, as was Amanda. I haven't seen Amanda THIS happy in months. She was smiling from ear to ear and bubbling over. She didn't want the kids to leave and asked me to leave Deanna behind when Trina took the boys and me down to check the laundry that she was washing.

Amanda gave us more details. She took 10 steps with the help of her walker. Then her therapist had her make several trips back and forth from the wheelchair to the bed. Although her back hurt a little this evening from the exertion, she can't wait to get back up tomorrow and get hard at it again.

She's walking. At least a little. It's just so hard to believe.

The next few days will be very exciting as she makes progress beyond what we expected. Gone are the doomsday prophecies from doctors and nurses that she'd never walk again. She's proving all of them to be lies. God can do anything. He saved Amanda. Of course he's going to help her walk again.

And the pain and loneliness of the last three months for Trina begins to fade like darkness as dawn begins to break.

Toddler

We got some very exciting news today about Amanda. I believe I mentioned that she had been transferred to a rehabilitation facility. There have been several problems, including therapists that had no idea how to work with her because of her rare and very specific injuries and nurses trying to inject her with insulin for her diabetes, which she doesn't have. Despite all this, she has been doing physical therapy and can scoot from her bed across a board and into a wheelchair. It's quite impressive to watch and even more impressive when I think back to the limp, frail girl on a respirator in a drug-induced coma. But, as yet, she has been unable to put any weight on her legs, which is very discouraging and difficult for her. There is a natural tendency, whilst scooting, to use your legs to help. Her pelvis, however, hasn't been healed enough for her to use her legs at all.

April 20 was 3 months since the accident. And today, she was cleared by the Orthopaedic doctors to be fully weight-bearing with no limitations. She can begin to learn to walk again.

I'm reminded of a line from the epic, "The Thorn Birds". A couple of star-crossed lovers who sneak away, aided by helpful friends, for a weeklong tryst in their 20's encounter each other again some 20 years later, neither having married after their week together, both clinging to the love they share for each other. That night, the man sneaks into the woman's bed and the scene shows them talking about that week so long ago.

"I never thought I'd see you again," Meggie tells Ralph. "And here you are again . . . so soon!"

Time certainly is relative. When you expect to NEVER have something, 20 years doesn't seem too long to wait. When you expect it to take a year to begin to walk, three months seems like a drop in the bucket. While it's been an unbelievable difficult and painful, stressful and scary three months, my niece is alive. She has no brain damage. Her internal injuries are all healing well. She's strong, healthy, and will walk again.

As I stood over her one day last week, watching her visit with Grandma and thinking about how animated her conversation is, I was overwhelmed with thankfulness. Tears sprang to my eyes and I walked over and kissed her. She's a miracle, many times over, and I don't want to forget that. I don't want to take what God did for us for granted - ever.

I guess tomorrow she'll begin to try and walk. She asked her daddy this morning while I was in the room and before she left for her doctor's appointment if he'd be there in the morning in case she was cleared to begin weight-bearing so he could help her try and stand for the first time.

"Of course I'll be here, honey," he responded. He's been there for everything else, as has my sister. And so has Our Lord, right beside her every uncomfortable or painful minute, through all the ups and downs, carrying her when she couldn't deal with things herself and whispering words of encouragement in her ears and to my sister over the many frustrating times in the last 3 months.

And now, He'll stand back and call to her as a young father beckons to his child to take those first, halting steps. He'll be right next to her earthly father, holding out his arms of protection and love . . .

As she learns to walk once again.

Brain Block

When I'm tired, I find it difficult to think through even the simplest things. Take dinner tonight, for example. Dane is studying southern California in History and Geography. I was reading to him tonight in preparation for a test later in the week and reached a part where it talks about El Centro. My brother-in-law had a close friend who lived in El Centro and my sister and her family lived just a little north of El Centro some years ago. My brother-in-law pastored a mission church in the oasis town of Brawley. I went to visit one year. I flew into San Diego, rented a car, and drove east through the mountains. I'll never forget coming down out of the mountains and, as far as I could see east, north and south was nothing but desert. I drove for several hours through dry, brown desert before arriving in the oasis community where my sister lived. When I read to Dane about El Centro, I decided I needed to show him what it really looked like.

I pulled up a satellite map on the computer. Dane stood over my shoulder oohing and aahing. We zoomed in, then zoomed out as we moved around southern California. We looked at the mountains, then the green squares that indicate truck farms that are irrigated by water from the Colorado River. We found El Centro and Brawley on the aerial map. This whole section of his Lifepac began to take on new meaning.

After spending about a half an hour looking with him at topographical maps, I realized that smells from my dinner cooking on the stove were wafting down the hallway. I jumped up, having been so buried in southern California that I had forgotten about my meal boiling away. Sure enough, it's burned and unsalvageable in its current condition.

Now, what am I going to do about dinner. Dane has baseball practice at 6, and I can't seem to formulate any other plan. It looks like this is one of those nights where we are going to have to hit fast food. While I hate eating out (it seems like such a waste of money), I simply can't think through any other options.

If I wasn't quite so tired, I'm sure something would strike me but, after looking in the big freezer, the little freezer, the fridge and pantry, I'm still just as stumped as I was when I first saw my beef burgundy charcoal lining the kettle.

The kids surely can come up with a place to eat. Right now, I can't even think through that. But only a few more hours, and I can go to bed. And I'm sure I'll be more rested tomorrow.

Full Heart

I wanted desperately to write while everything was clear in my mind. Still, I'm not sure that I can adequately express the joy of the weekend.

If these busy weekends since the middle of February were preparation for this one, I wouldn't have changed a thing. I sit here ever so much more a Hunt than I was before this busy, fun, family event. I took the kids out of school at noon on Friday, planning on being on the road by 12:30. We didn't actually get out the door until almost 1:00, but we still had plenty of time. I was chomping at the bit to get unpacked (which I never actually accomplished) in the hotel and begin visiting with family.

We arrived (thanks to Don's GPS that I bought him for Christmas which was a wonderful help, getting us to the hotel, then from the hotel to the restaurant and back, then the wedding on Saturday and home) in plenty of time, only to discover that there were problems with the hotel and they couldn't offer us a room, despite our reservations of 2 months. They offered us two hotel rooms across the parking lot, but we held out for a suite and they eventually found one for us. We took Mom and Dad to their room, made a list of all the family member's rooms, then took our luggage to ours. Across the hall from us was my sister from California, her husband, daughter from D.C., and my niece's boyfriend whom I've never met but who stayed in our home over Christmas the year we were in England. Directly below us was my sister (the mother of the groom), her husband, my nephew and brother of the groom who was also the Best Man, and my niece (the groom's sister and bridesmaid). Once I dropped off the luggage, I began looking for any family I could find. My nephew from Alabama (the newlywed) showed up in my sister's room, so we sat down to visit. It was so cute. He was very excited to see all the family and commented that he had been walking down the hall when "Daniel Morgan walked right past me!" Daniel Morgan is his cousin from California. I loved that he called his cousin by his first AND last name and seemed so surprised to pass him in the hallway. Later, I heard that Grandpa was with him when they heard a woman say, "Daniel, you just walked past your Grandpa!" Blind Grandpa said, "Is that Marianna?" and Daniel, who had walked right past Grandpa and Chad and continued down the hall, turned and said, "Hey, Grandpa!" He hadn't recognized Chad (they haven't seen each other since they were children) and, apparently, had been preoccupied with his two little girls and hadn't noticed Grandpa, either.

And that's the way it went all weekend. We flitted from room to room, visiting this sister or that nephew. Everyone turned the deadbolt on their doors outward so the suite doors wouldn't lock behind them. If the deadbolt was out, the family was in. Grandpa finally set up permanent residence in the lobby. Everyone eventually wandered through and he was the unofficial greeting committee, getting to visit with every family member at one time or another. "They put out chocolate chip cookies in the afternoon!" he told us all this afternoon at lunch.

Tenny borrowed some of my sponge rollers. I borrowed Grandma's slip. Rachel (my nephew's new wife) borrowed my hairspray. Deanna slept down the hall on the pullout sleeper sofa in Grandma and Grandpa's suite. Lydia slept downstairs in Alicia's bed with her in Toni's suite so her boyfriend, Dan, could have the second room in Tenny's suite. Most of the time, Tenny's granddaughters were in her and Jon's room, so Deanna and I hung out there a lot. When a large group of the gals went to Lenox Square shopping on Saturday, Don and I invited any stragglers to join us at the pool. We fed Grandpa lunch in our room and everyone always seemed to show up at the same time for breakfast in the Lobby. My brother-in-law from California took my sons out both Saturday and Sunday mornings to play baseball in the parking deck and our van was borrowed several times. You'd push the button and stand waiting for the elevator. Then the doors would open and out would step a family member. More often than not, you'd never end up getting on the elevator after all.

The Bride's family was also staying in the hotel, and we enjoyed visiting with them, but there wasn't quite the sense of comraderie our family always enjoys. Some of us decided to have one last fling today and we made lunch plans at a Chili's just down the road from the hotel. My California family, except for my sister, were flying home this afternoon for work tomorrow. My niece and her boyfriend from DC were heading back this evening and my nephew from Alabama and his wife had to head for home, so lunch was our last opportunity to get together. No one was entirely sure who would show up, but we had a party of 19 and when Chad showed up with his new wife, Rachel, unexpectedly, we all whooped, clapped, and hollered shouts of joy and encouragement. Later, after lunch, we took family pictures on the stretch of lawn next to the restaurant. My children and the babies chased their grandpa and cousins and my mother tackled my sister in the grass and was immediately surrounded with camera's flashing.

The memories of this weekend will be replayed over and over again for the next several months. The only two sad things were that Amanda's family wasn't able to join us (which was gut-wrenching to all us girls - missing one of our sisters at such a special time), but we stayed in very close touch by phone. Just before the wedding, I went to where the Groomsmen were gathered to kiss my nephew and suggested to him that I call my sister at the hospital and let him talk to her.

"I already called, Aunt P.," he said. "She cried through the whole conversation, but at least I got to talk to her." I was so thankful for a nephew that loves and missed his auntie enough to call her minutes before his wedding and let her know he was thinking about her, even with everything else on his mind. That incident alone says volumes about our family and the emotions of this weekend.

The other sad thing was saying goodbye. It's never easy to part from family, but today it seemed even more difficult. Although our hearts were filled to overflowing, we're getting so spread out that occasions like this are becoming very few and far between.

One last story: My father's name is Wilfred Charles Hunt. He named his son Wilfred Charles Hunt II (my brother that we call Chuck or Chuckie). My brother named his oldest son Wilfred Charles Hunt III and we call him Chad. Mom and Dad rode with Don and I to Atlanta and we were among the first to check into the hotel. Later, when my nephew arrived and tried to check in, they asked him his name.

"Wilfred Hunt," he said. The young man working the front counter typed into the computer, then looked up at my nephew and said, "You already checked in!" My nephew told us all about it at the rehearsal dinner and commented, "I can't wait for Daddy to get here and try and check in under the name Wilfred Hunt!" Last night, after the wedding, my brother finally check into his room. The front desk called my father in his room and asked, "Just how many Wilfred Hunts are there?"

"Three that I know of," Papa responded. Privately, I asked my nephew, Chad, about his plans for children. His wife is pregnant and having a daughter. But Chad told me, "When we have a son, he'll be Wilfred Charles Hunt IV!" His wife quickly added, "And we've decided to call him Will." The plans are already in place for a 4th. It sure was exciting news. What a legacy that child will have!

And what a legacy each of us Hunts have. I think we all realized it once again this weekend.

Another life in the day . . .

It's amazing what a little prayer and sleep will do for you. And, after I dropped Dane and Deanna at choir practice last night, Daelyn and I hit Wal-Mart. Dane needed some school socks and a new baseball bat (his is far too heavy, his coach tells me) and Deanna needed a belt.

I came home with a pair of shoes that match my dress for the wedding (Yay! I've been looking all week and never even considered Wal-Mart) and several other treasures and Don found a suitcoat that fits him that he can wear to the wedding. Now I just have to find a dress and shoes for Deanna and I'll be ready to pack.

Dane's class performed "Pecos Bill and Sleufoot Sue" today. The viewing of the play for parents and grandparents was at 9 a.m. There is a later performance for the elementary students. Then a pizza party and a fun day on tap. I picked up Grandpa and arrived about ten till nine to get seats. Dane was already seated on the stage with the curtain pulled. I stood by the stage stairs, got his attention and waved. He smiled a huge smile. He's been so excited. Then I took my seat with Grandpa. About 2 minutes later, Don walked in. He had told Dane he'd try his best to get there but neither of us had any hope. I was floored when I glanced up and saw him coming through the doorway. I grabbed him, drug him to the stage stairs, and Dane saw him. What a difference to that little boy.

He called Don at work yesterday and asked him to make arrangements to be there. I was sitting nearby listening to the conversation.

"But, Dad, our family started with YOU," he pleaded. How many times have I told the children that their father is the head of our family. Now he had a chance to show it. AND HE DID! It was wonderful.

I've never seen such a good children's play. The actors spoke loudly and slowly. You could understand nearly every word. And they paused appropriately after a funny line to allow the patrons to laugh. It was very well done and a lot of fun. Dane couldn't have been prouder.

So, I've lost 8 pounds and bought a size smaller pair of jeans last night at Wal-Mart, too. Only 52 more to go! But at least I'm headed the right direction instead of up, up, up. And, hopefully, I'm also setting a good example for my children who are noticing me getting ice cream for them but refusing their offers of tastes, having salad instead of sandwiches, and cutting back significantly on my dinner portions. They all commented separately at dinner last night. I was glad to be impressing them positively.

Got to pick up Deanna and take her to look for a dress quickly while all she's missing at school is recess. Then maybe I can buckle down to getting packed . . . again. I should be an expert by now. But this is the last family wedding this year - at least the last one we know about. And my weekends of being booked back-to-back end with this one.

I can't think of a nicer way to end a busy season. My sister from California arrives tomorrow with her husband, son, daughter-in-law, and two grandbabies that I've never seen. My nephew, the Best Man, flew in from South America on Monday. My niece and her boyfriend from D.C. are also arriving in Atlanta tomorrow. Any my sweet Alicia, of course, will be coming up from Statesboro for her brother's wedding. In addition, my brother (whose son was married last weekend) has made arrangements to drive over for the rehearsal dinner with the newlyweds, so I'll get to see him and my nephew and new niece-in-law (I guess I can call her that - my nephew's new wife) again. A real family gathering!

So I'll plod through the preparations once more. I'm sure the celebration this weekend will be worth all the planning and work.

And there will be rest for the weary on Monday!

Down in the Dumps

Not quite sure if it's fatigue or too much on my plate or a combination of both, but I've been struggling with feeling very discouraged. I'm headed to bed early to spend some time praying with Don and get some rest.

Hopefully, my attitude will improve tomorrow and I'll be able to stop looking forward to death as a time of rest!

The Truth Finally Comes Out

I heard Donovan whining and discovered my bedroom door closed. When I opened it, he backed away. Deanna was sitting on the floor reading the Sunday comics that Don had handed to me at bedtime last night and I had tossed on the floor so I didn't wake up with newsprint tattooed on my face. I sat on the bed and encouraged Donovan to come close so I could snuggle him. Just then, Deanna roared.

"Gumby and the Clay Boys!" She handed me the comics. I glanced over them quizzically, then asked her what she meant.

"Right there, Mom. Gumby and the Clay Boys."

I looked again. In one of the comic strips I never read, a little boy was playing with characters from Gumby's band. A parent was sitting in an easy chair reading the paper as the little boy pedaled past on his tricycle with several characters from "Gumby" in tow. In the last frame, the parent crosses his legs and Gumby is stuck to the bottom of his shoe.

"Umh," I responded distractedly. A good many years ago, I had checked out a Gumby movie from the library. Deanna and Dane sat mesmerized and must have watched the movie 100 times in a row. I never could quite see what they saw in a cheap, poorly-shot, Grade C movie about clay figures that came alive, but when we tried another time a couple of years later to check it out from the library and discovered some other child had never returned the video, Don and I started an all-out hunt for a Gumby movie to purchase for our heart-broken Clay Boys' (Gumby's band) fanatics. I hadn't thought about Gumby in a couple of years, though I'm sure we still have the movie we searched so diligently to find. Again, I was struck by how strange the Gumby phenom was. My children watched the movie by the hour. They never tired of it and had all the goofy songs memorized. And, apparently, it wasn't only my children. Some other kid liked it so much he kept the movie and here Gumby was in the funny comics. I shook my head just thinking about it. Weird, this fascination with Gumby and the Clay Boys. Gumby was a popular toy when I was a child, but I had never seen a Gumby movie. Nor was I entranced when I watched it with my children. But no amount of reasoning changed their opinion. Gumby was "cool". He was green, made of clay, could change his shape, and was make-believe, but he was "cool". He wasn't Fonzie, the coolest character ever to grace a TV screen. Or James Dean, who was before my time. Not even Clint Eastwood or (ooh, I'm swooning even thinking about the name) Robert Redford. There was nothing even remotely cool about Gumby that I could see.

I tossed the paper on the bed to read tonight before lights out and Deanna and I started to walk out of the room.

"Hard to believe I had a crush on a clay figure," she said quietly.

The Race is On

I just don't know why I've been in such a slump of late. I don't feel like I have anything to say. While there's lots going on in my life, much of what I'm dealing with is personal and I don't want to share it with the internet.

It was wonderful to see my brother and his family over the weekend. My sister-in-law was very happy and we got to see the whole family, even my nephew who's going through Army basic training. We even got to have breakfast with the honeymooners Sunday morning before they left for Florida and we left for Augusta.

The downside was that we're all exhausted. The children did wonderfully in the van for 6 hours on a Saturday morning and I was very pleased with the way they behaved at the wedding. But we had very late nights and were just worn out by the time the reception was over. We pushed the issue a little too much to try and fit in a visit and kept them out even later, which took a toll on all of us. By the time we got home Sunday afternoon, Don and I were both sicker and we all went into a new week just plumb worn out.

The baseball situation doesn't help any. We signed Dane up to play baseball with the Rec Department this year, hoping he would be drafted onto the team coached by his classmate's dad. He wasn't. Instead, he was picked up in the second round by another coach who's wonderful and an excellent teacher, but who loves the game so much that he doesn't want to end practice at night. He told us the first night that practices would be from 6 to 7:30. We have yet to finish before 8:15 and, most nights, it's 8:30 before parents start pulling their kids off the field and the coach finally give in. Add to that the 4 nights/week of practices and it makes for very tired players.

Tonight I like to have frozen to death. The temperature was 57 when I got in the van to bring Dane home. I was so cold, it was spreading up my back and into my shoulders and I could feel my neck tightening. Then it started to rain. And Dane has three more of these practices this week. I wasn't the first parent to pull their child off the field, nor the second, but when I pulled Dane off, the coach told all the players who had already batted that they could leave.

This weekend is the last one we have planned for a while. I'd just like to have one weekend at home with my family. While the trips skiing, retreating with Deanna, going to the Family Reunion, hiking on Cumberland Island with 9 eleven year old girls, and a family wedding were all fun, I'm just plain wore out.

Maybe next Monday will feel less like a Marathon and more like a Sprint. I think I could finish a Sprint.

Here's hoping.

Nuttin' but Good

Amanda was moved to a Rehab hospital this afternoon. Gone is the airbed and they told her she's scheduled for 3 hours of rehab tomorrow. She told her Daddy that the hard, regular bed was fine. Grandma said she doesn't know if that's true or the result of pain meds. In any case, on Saturday, she's 12 weeks post-accident and the pelvic specialist says she can begin weight-bearing exercises. I'm thrilled she's embarking on the next stage in her recovery, but she's a little frightened, as is her family.

We are heading out tomorrow to marry off my nephew - Wilfred Charles Hunt III or Chad as the family calls him. Don and I both have colds and are feeling crummy. The kids are excited about seeing their cousins.

Lots of news that I need to post. I've tried for several days to post but we were having some difficulties. I finally discovered Don had taken our internet access off-line for some work he was doing.

Anyway, got to get to bed - we have a 5-hr. drive tomorrow. And lots of laundry to do on Sunday.

It's been so long since we've had a weekend for just our family to spend together without "something scheduled" that I can't remember how to "be" a family. But I'm sure we'll get there eventually. After all, summer's coming.

Pray for my sweet Amanda and her mama who most likely won't be able to stay with her at night anymore. That's going to be very hard for both of them at first. But it's such a positive transition.