Ziplining at Sunburst Stables {Behind the Scenes}

July 30, 2013September 30, 2015 Lindsey P. Brackett4 Comments

Last week, just before our anniversary trip, he got the report from his doctor that his heart had returned to normal function and he could begin conditioning himself back to activities more strenuous than solitaire and Candy Crush.

Apparently, that’s what he’d been waiting to hear because he’d saved his birthday money and when I asked him what all he wanted to do while we were hiding away in a little cabin on Blueberry Hill and playing tourist barely twenty miles from home, he decided on ziplining.

Really?

No, it doesn’t require any great athletic skill, and no it’s really not that strenuous, but ziplining? I’ve seen the pictures and a few videos and while the concept was intriguing, the actual idea of hanging on for dear life to a cable and a harness while brushing by trees and then having the ground rush up to meet you in a sudden stop was not on my list of anniversary activities.

I mean, seriously, I figured he’d still be recovering and we’d paint pottery because it’s a nice, quiet activity.

Ha. Instead, he took me over to Sunburst Stables, which is North Georgia’s premier place for ziplining. Seven zips, several 1000 feet long or more, one through a cave and 200 feet of darkness, all located in the woods and hill top pastures of a local family’s farm. We could have ridden horses instead. They’d have even packed a lunch for us. But no, zipping it was.

I was terrified. Not in a “there’s no way I’m doing this” way, but more in a “I can’t believe we’re both doing this and there’s four children at home waiting on us to come back.”

Sometimes life is scarier when you have kids.

Our guides were great. They were young college guys who boasted confidence and humor and assured us and the father/son duo with us, that the cables were designed to hold 14,000 pounds and weren’t going anywhere. They told us Sunburst has never had an injury, that the youngest zipliner ever was not quite 2 and the oldest was 92. They explained how to slow down (yeah, like I was going to touch that wire for anything) and they explained how they control the stop, so there’s no way to miss it.

All that I was still jumpy.

We opened with a short zip. Okay, got my bearings on how this is going to go. The next line was twice as long as the first and I think I kept my eyes closed the whole time. At any rate, I don’t remember much. But at the third line we were joined by the photographer, who happens to be the family’s oldest son, and his younger sister, who happens to be attending school in the fall with my girls.

It took a five year old to put me at ease.

She was funny, answering questions about how she likes to zip, and telling us how she can’t go on the cave line alone because she doesn’t weigh enough (not a problem I have for sure). She was teasing and being silly with the guides like they were another pair of brothers, and on our fourth zip, she informed me it was my turn to go first and I better get up there. (I’d been waiting until last each time.)

It was like having one of my daughters there, and I know they’d have been doing the same thing. Youth knows no fear and my girls would have all but pushed me off that platform if they’d sensed mine.

By the fifth and sixth runs, I was watching the scenery speed by and appreciating the beauty of where we live and call home in a whole new way.

But honestly, I didn’t realize that I had been enjoying myself until I saw the pictures.

Apparently I’d been smiling.

The last zip was over a lake with a fountain and you go with a partner and the likelihood that one of you will get wet. I left that to my husband because after all, this was his idea.

Definitely one of his better ones.

For more information on Sunburst Stables and all their great activities for families, couples, and anyone looking for an adventure in North Georgia, click here.

Linking up with the Behind the Scenes community over at Crystal Stine’s today. Check it out and be inspired to tell the truth behind the picture.

Margin Mom · marriage

Taking Time To Be: My Search for Margin {Part 4}

July 22, 2013September 30, 2015 Lindsey P. Brackett3 Comments

For all my earlier reflections on finding margin, go here.

This past weekend marked eleven years of marriage for my recovering husband and I. Last year for our tenth, we had a new baby and an overnight at a fancy (and local) bed&breakfast. I spent a week reflecting on how quickly ten years had passed and how different real marriage is from the expectations we have that day at the alter.

This year, so far, there’s been nothing. No sweet post from me. No big surprise gift from him. In fact, we’ve barely had a moment alone to reflect on the past eleven years. What we’ve had instead was a day of gardening and preserving, a recurring bout of the stomach bug, and too much busyness for one summer.

Which is why, even though our motivation for our upcoming getaway was to celebrate our anniversary, at this moment, my only motivation is just to have some time away.

Away from the laundry room that smells like wet beach towels and old sunscreen.

Away from the dishes that are crusty with ketchup and sticky with Lucky Charms.

Away from the sagging couch with its nail polish stains and flattened cushions.

Away from the bedroom with its piles of to-do and boxes of old we can’t let go of.

Away from the bathroom that needs a new shower curtain and a better system for hair ties.

Away from the never-ending list of responsibilities and the constant connection to everyone.

Away from the four most precious gifts so we can remember that loving each other first helps us love them best later.

This week we’re getting some white space in our marriage. A few simple days alone.

I only hope the house doesn’t cave in from all I will probably leave undone in the interest of getting my priorities in order.

But marriage trumps laundry. Every time.

How’s the margin in your marriage? Are you like me and could desperately use some time to reconnect?

Linking up with these lovely ladies. Check it out.

marriage

Four Necessary Conversations Your Marriage Needs

June 19, 2013September 30, 2015 Lindsey P. Brackett1 Comment

Four weeks ago when I thought my husband was having a full-blown heart attack at age 32, I had to face an uncomfortable truth. If he died, I wouldn’t know what to do. I don’t mean that in an emotional, how-could-I-raise-four-kids-alone-he’s-my-rock sort of way, though there was certainly that. I mean, seriously, four weeks ago, I wouldn’t have known how to pay our bills, plan his funeral, or request his life insurance.

Like most marriages in which one partner is the primary financial manager, I was in the dark on even the simplest of tasks. Sure, I know him well enough that I could hack our accounts and figure everything out, but the point is, at such a state of emotional turmoil, I shouldn’t have to do that. Since then, we’ve had some heavy conversations. Some were topics that aren’t usually brought up among couples our age because the idea of losing your spouse seems so far away and talking about funeral plans seems like tempting fate. Others were conversations we just needed to have anyway to keep our marriage financially healthy.

Here are four conversations you and your spouse need to have, not because you’re preparing for the worst, but because if you’re married then it’s time to act like a grown-up and talk about the harsh realities of life.

1. Funeral and Burial Plans
Could you oversee the planning of a funeral for the one you love? Do you know if your husband or wife wants to be cremated or buried? Do you have any idea if the music matters or who the pallbearers would be or which pastor he might prefer? We didn’t talk about any of this until after because it was in the after that all these questions occurred to me and I didn’t know most of the answers. It relieved me to know after that I would have guessed correctly on most of the big questions, but there are little preferences he has that I didn’t know about like certain music and a tombstone over a grave marker.

2. Life Insurance
I knew we have life insurance, and I can even tell you the name of the company and who our agent is, but I didn’t know the amount. This is actually a conversation we started to have while he was finishing Men’s Fraternity, a bible study for men at our church. He was encouraged to talk with me about whether or not I felt we would be financially stable if something happened to him and the steps we might need to take to increase that level of security. I think we all hate to think about the idea that if something happened to our spouse, at least there would be money in the bank. I know I do; but reality is that money in the bank is necessary for the worst of afters and especially in our situation as a one-income family, it is a place we need to put some of our monthly budget. I could and would go back to work if Joshua wasn’t here, but that likely wouldn’t happen right away, so we’d have the insurance for the meantime. If this seems like an expense you can cut from your budget, I encourage you to consider that a small expense now could mean much less debt in your future.

3. A Will
This is the area we’ve been the most negligent in completing. Obviously in a marriage is something happens to one spouse, the other becomes the benefactor, but what about the awful situation when something happens to both of you? We have four kids and right now, with no will in place, they would go into foster care until someone else sorts out their lives for them, and that’s a terrible legacy for me to leave them. I prepare everything else for their lives from lunches to outfits to sleepovers, so why wouldn’t I leave behind preparations for who and how to raise them? It’s easy to think that’s never going to happen, but if I’ve learned anything in the past month, it’s that “never going to happen to me” happens more often than we like. We’re making an appointment with a lawyer and wrapping this one up because it’s not just about me and him anymore; it’s about the fates of the four little people we’d be leaving behind.

4. Bank Accounts and Passwords
While my husband can rattle off the numbers for all our our accounts and the purpose behind each one, I tend to only worry about the one I’m allowed to spend money from. I know in a lot of marriages, the wife is the financial manager, so many of you are probably now picturing the lost state your husband would be in if something happened to you. So do him a favor? Tell him where and how to find things. Joshua and I worked for three hours on his third day home from the hospital talking me through the accounts, the bills, and sharing the passwords so I don’t have to figure that out on my own. I hate analyzing finances because it only serves to remind me how tight our belts are right now, so I usually avoid it at all costs. Well, the cost is that I’ve placed all the burden for earning and dividing our income on my husband and that’s not fair. I know it works in most marriages to only have one spouse managing the checkbook, but it also works to have you both knowledgeable about what is coming in and going out and to where and when. Don’t let your finances be your control issue if you’re in charge, and don’t let financial matters be your frustration if you’re not. A marriage that avoids sharing information about the money that is yours collectively is on a path towards destruction. There’s a reason finances are the number one cause of divorce.

I’m encouraging you if you haven’t talked about these topics to pour yourselves a glass of wine or sweet tea, put the kids to bed, turn off Downton Abbey and have a conversation. I’d love to hear from you–how do you handle these topics in your marriage?

faith · joshua · marriage

When You’re Thinking Your Husband is Having a Heart Attack

May 28, 2013 Lindsey P. Brackett6 Comments

I have received so many calls and texts and facebook messages that I can’t keep up with who knows what and what’s been said, so I’m turning here to give you an account of our past few days and hopefully, put to rest some of the rumors.

Joshua called me around 5 Tuesday evening on his way home from work. He was fine, we chatted a bit, and I sent him to get the girls from dance. Sometime over the next 45 minutes, he began to feel intense chest pain, so much so, that by the time he got home with Madelynne and Annabelle, it was obvious something was wrong. However, because he had worked in the yard all day Saturday, cutting trees and hauling mulch, we chalked it up to a pulled muscle and went on with our evening. We went to Amelia’s preschool graduation, talked with friends, and came back home. He still wasn’t feeling great, but he took two ibuprofen (as he had been doing since Saturday anyway because he was sore), rocked the baby, helped with the girls, and we went to bed. I figured he was just worn out.

We got up and had a normal Wednesday morning; he said he felt a little better. He did take two tylenol because his chest still hurt some, and then he went on to work. I went off for a busy morning that involved jazzercise, an appointment, and Madelynne’s Honors Day. About 10:30 as I was just being ushered back to see the nurse at the health department, and while Gus was shrieking and Amelia was spilling cereal everywhere, he called and through the gasping for breath told me he thought he needed to go to the hospital. Though alarmed, I was determined to keep a cool head. A heart attack in a 32 year old seemed ludicrous, so I was still convincing myself he was having an intense muscle spasm, even though he had told me the pain was constricting and radiating down his left arm. He had a co-worker drive him to our local hospital because I could meet him there more quickly, so the nurse rushed me through, and I was out the door in literally about five minutes. I rushed over to his mom’s, dropped the two little ones, and then headed back to the hospital, figuring I would get there just as he did or only a few minutes after. I called my mom along the way and told her what was happening, mainly so she could talk down my crazy. Rationally, I couldn’t fathom that this could be the worst case scenerio; it still seemed so ridiculous. But as I described his pain, she calmly said, “Lindsey, I hate to tell you this, but that’s not a pulled muscle. You need to be prepared.” I dashed into the ER and they let me back because he was already there. I came in his room just as the nurse was hooking on the wires for an EKG. I remember sometime during the blur of that moment realizing from his hospital bracelet that the doctor on call was the father of some of my former students and being so relieved. He would be straight with me, I knew. I held his hand and kissed his forehead, and then the nurse told me to move so they could start the EKG.

That’s when everything changed. Until then the staff had been fairly calm. They’d been asking his questions, even joking a bit, but the moment the EKG started, that was all over. I remember hearing a few beeps and then the nurse said (and this is by far the best part of the story), “Boom! Game on!” I remember thinking, what is that supposed to even mean? But suddenly the room was full and there were lots of syringes and hands and I was nearly shoved out the door to stand trembling in the hallway. His doctor told me it looked like he was indeed having a heart attack and he was going to be transferred immediately to Northeast Georgia Medical Center, and he said, as so many did over the next few days, “That’s the best place for him. They will figure this out.”

There is no way to be prepared for a situation like this, for that sudden emergency. I couldn’t figure out what to do first. So I just plowed through with the first thoughts that came to my racing mind and somehow surfaced among the constant repertoire of “heart attack….heart attack…how can this be happening…heart attack…” I had his co-worker, Candace, who was still there (and wow, she was a rock) call his mom because I just didn’t think I could handle delivering that news and answering questions. I called MaryLynn and basically ordered her to go get my children. My mom texted me in the midst of that and I texted back for her to meet me in Gainesville. (As an aside, I am now so grateful for texting because it made communicating with multiple people so much simpler.) They were asking me to sign papers and I was holding his hand again and telling him it would be okay. At some point someone gave me back his insurance card and driver’s license, and in one of those random moments that make no sense, I was so grateful I’d already showered and put on a skirt with pockets. Then I texted our friend Laura, and asked her to tell her husband, who is my doctor and our friend, that Joshua was actually having a heart attack. She texted me back almost immediately and in that way friends do when there’s a crisis, she immediately began to take care of other details for me. She called our church, and when MaryLynn called me back to tell me that she would go get my kids but hers were vomiting, I said something along the lines of, “Call Laura and work it out. I don’t care, just someone get them from his parents.” Then I started crying about how, of all days, it was Honor’s Day and Madelynne was going to be so upset, so MaryLynn went to Honor’s Day and at some point Laura wound up with my little ones.

During all of this Joshua was being strapped to the gurney for transport; he was still shaking and in a lot of pain, and they were hitting him with the gamut of drugs: morphine, nitro, aspirin, zofran, and I have no idea what else. I asked to ride with him, but was told it would have to be in the front and I absolutely could not get upset if something happened. When the paramedic said that, Joshua looked at me and said, “Go with Candace.” So I did. As we were leaving, his doctor hugged me and reassured me that he was in the best hands possible. He named the top cardio doctor in Gainesville and said, “He’s going to him for the cath. They’ll have on that table twenty minutes after the ambulance leaves here.” Since we live a normal thirty minute drive from this hospital, I knew they weren’t messing around. Later, Joshua said he thought the ride was only about fifteen minutes, and it was super fast and super bumpy.

Candace drove me to the hospital and along the way I tried to stop shaking long enough to be coherent. I kept telling myself to be calm and not freak out, but that was a lot to ask for with the pervasive thought that he was having a heart attack and I might be left alone to raise four kids who need their daddy because he’s the calm one who doesn’t freak out. I tried to figure out who to call and what was the rational course. I knew my big girls were taken care of from school to after care at church to Awana and there were plenty of people who would look out for them, but I was afraid that this could be the worst and who would be there with them? So I called their school and talked to their counselor, who is also a friend and fellow church member. At some point during this I was so grateful for that network of folks who seemed to just pop up everywhere I needed them. I talked to my mom who told me she and my dad were on their way, and my sister would meet me at the hospital. I tried to think of who Joshua might want there, so I called our friend Derek, whose wife takes all our beautiful pictures and who is Joshua’s men’s group leader. He works in the medical field so I knew he would understand the jargon and could help me and I knew, somehow beyond a shadow of a doubt, that he would be calm and would pray with us and for us. I left a message, and later when I got a text from his wife saying he was leaving Marietta and would meet me at the hospital, I cried in relief.

Once at the hospital, Candace put me out at the ER because the paramedics told her to have me go in there. She went to park and I stumbled inside. I must have looked terribly frightened because everyone I talked to was super gentle and kind. I was directed upstairs and when I got off on the wrong floor, the nurse walked me straight down to where I needed to be. At some point as I was heading up a hall by myself, I had to stop so I could get it together, and I uttered what is definitely not the most profound prayer, but the most needy: God, please don’t let this be my story. Please don’t take him from me and leave me to do this by myself. The day before I had been working on the SheReadsTruth study in Nehemiah, and we were memorizing the verse: Do not be grieved, for the joy of the Lord is your strength (Neh. 8:10). I clung to that promise as best I could. Once I was in the cath lab waiting room, I lost it a bit and began to sob hysterically. Some sweet stranger came and prayed over me, and then I was able to reassure the concerned nurses that I didn’t need a quiet room; I would make it now.

My phone was blowing up at this point and it was also dying. I could just hear Joshua saying, “Seriously, you didn’t charge your phone last night?” So that was kind of comical. The nurses found me a charger to borrow and when Candace made it upstairs, she called her assistant (who is also a Candace) and had her drive an extra charger down to me. Joshua’s office staff is truly incredible. It died just as my friend Andrea was trying to tell me something about her husband, and it was so dead, I couldn’t even get it back on when I plugged it in. Which turned out not to matter, because what she was saying was that James was at the hospital with his grandmother and was coming over to where I was, and about that time, he got off the elevator and I cried all over him, too.

Sometime right after that, they came to get me and take me back to see him and the doctor. Everyone was smiling, and I didn’t get until later that it was because they were relieved not to have a 32 year old heart attack victim on their table. When his doctor first began to explain the official diagnosis of pericarditis, I had trouble comprehending it. All I could think was that’s the thing they say on Grey’s Anatomy before Christina plunges a syringe into someone’s heart. Lucky for us, no syringe was needed. Later that evening, after a heart echo had been done and he was stable and on lots of drugs, he was diagnosed with perimyocarditis, which means his heart and the sac around it were inflamed and swollen. There’s no way to determine what causes this, the likely cause is viral.

My friend Josh, our doctor, called me once he found out the diagnosis and told me it was the best case scenario for this situation. That was reassuring to hear. He actually said that in a case like Joshua’s, where the EKG showed a classic heart attack taking place, the news that it was inflammation was worth jumping for joy, especially in light of what it could have been.

The rest of the day felt like I was sleepwalking. My mom said I was in the “fog of battle”. Somehow my friends and family helped me figure out what to do with the children so I could stay the night with Joshua. He was being kept in the critical care unit overnight for observation. My sister, Katy, took Amelia, and my sister, Audrey, came to stay at my house with the others. Another friend picked them up for school, and on Thursday, all of my sisters gathered at Katy’s to play with Amelia and Gus in the pool. I’m pretty sure they thought we were having a party.

He was moved to regular room on Thursday morning and so many people came by or called or sent messages. Trust me, there’s nothing like that love. I even had a friend, who is a cardiac nurse at the hospital but who was off duty, talk me through what was really happening and reassure me that it was serious and we should take it seriously because it will be awhile before he’s back to himself.

We came home late Friday and I know he was relieved to sleep in his own bed without beeping monitors and lab techs who draw blood at 3 a.m. I was just relieved to be able to lie down beside him and listen to him breathe. Like any situation of this caliber makes you do, we’re now taking stock of life and how to better live it. Today I learned all about our bills and online accounts, and we played UNO for an hour before bedtime with the girls. An earlier tragedy this month already had me being ever so grateful for normal days and everyday blessings, and this is only exemplifying that desire to appreciate the ordinary.

Tell your husband you love him tonight. Then tell him again. We’re only gifted one day at a time.

faith · Friday Five · joshua · marriage

View: Five Minute Friday

May 24, 2013 Lindsey P. Brackett7 Comments

It’s #FiveMinuteFriday and I’m up for the twitter party. First time ever. Head over to Lisa-Jo’s and check it out.

Prompt: View

There’s no view like the one of your beloved strapped to a gurney with about a million wires of all shapes and sizes and colors coming out of his chest. There’s no view like the messy life you see flashing before your eyes in a heartbeat that lasts an eternity when the doctor man whose kids you’ve coached tells you your 32 year old husband is having a heart attack.

That view will terrify you right down to your knees and leave you shaking for hours after even when the diagnosis has changed and the prognosis is suddenly so much more this side of positive.

But the view that comes from the inside of your eyelids while you sob out hot tears and some sweet stranger holds your hand and whispers Jesus, that’s a view that will change you. Forever.

The month of May has been tough for my amazing community, but these women who surround me with their children and their meals and their smiles and their prayers are amazing. The Lord is building up a mighty rock among us as we continue to grieve and believe. This week they are praying me through my husband’s illness.