When she came along, I remember my mom (her Nanny) driving from Broussard with us in the backseat, like a crazy person, so she could get to the hospital soon enough to be there when Jaimie came into the world.
We stayed at my aunt's house with my great-grandmaw Barrilleaux. I remember me, Paul (Aunt Sherry's oldest), and Grandmaw Barrilleaux laying in the bed. And the call coming in sometime in the middle of the night. Sherry had given birth to a baby girl. My first thought was "oh my gosh", it's Paul's birthday! August 15.
And then she came home. Maybe we were there, maybe we weren't. But all of mom's pictures were not good. The hair spray can had busted in the bag with the film. She looked like Shaula. And we would call her Shaula, ALL THE TIME.
She spent time with me, and Rick. Just loved having her around. It wasn't a thought. I really can't imagine why she would have enjoyed being with any of us. She came to college with me. I even think she had to sit in the hall (please forgive me!!!). She came to our friends' house. She hung out at home. She brought us the flowers for our moms when we got married. She is Hannah's godmother (one of the most noblest "jobs" ever).
She reminds me, or makes me realize things about myself that I have never known or noticed (evidently I say excuse me under my breath when I burp. I NEVER NOTICED THIS, and definitely didn't think anyone else did either). I talk about anything, deepest fears, highest moments, doubts, battles, so much, and she just nods her head like that's okay. I don't know if she agrees, or not, but I always feel I am normal (surely I am extreme one way or the other, no doubt).And no matter life's road for her, an adventure always, I feel as if my dreams are absolutely channeled through her (yes, that sounds way too deep). And I stand in awe. Not letting fear, the unknown, any of the above halt you in any way is always my thought.
She had a little heart surgery last year. I had an aunt, a precious and very close aunt, that had open heart surgery the year I graduated from high school. She was a diabetic, and her husband was a Jehovah's witness. She needed blood. He refused to give it to her. She was my grandmother's sister, one of her closest. My grandmother and her siblings went to a judge to get a court order for the doctors to give her blood. The doctors were blunt, "If she doesn't receive blood soon, she will die." She did die. I was devastated. But there is something about losing a loved one at 18, as opposed to 40-something. Age definitely changes perception, and how much you appreciate the scope of the person and all that they entail. So, when it was Jaimie's turn for surgery, it became a battle between being "strong" and making sure she knew every possible thing I thought she needed to know if God wanted to take her home. And if I went with the "tell her everything" mindset, how much faith is that? And then how much fear am I adding to what must already be a scary situation? I don't think I unloaded all of my thoughts (my memory is shady at best).
Are you ever just scared that someone may not know how much you love them? How "proud" you are of them (even when it is not your place, or you don't have a right to be proud. That's a parent position)? How thankful you are that they let you love them? It really is just that simple. Just in case you don't know.
