It's been a year.

Well, how has an entire year passed? Obviously, so much has happened that one post couldn't possibly detail it all, but I'll try the nutshell approach.
After the upheaval of Curtis' ordeal in June, and then Brooke's stepfather passing away, each day was really weird in some way and had established a whole new "normal". Curtis intensely battled a fear of death. If he did anything that brought up his heart rate, that awful out-of-control feeling would take over causing him to stop everything, test his blood pressure, and start back into Scripture. Really, for three straight months, that is just about all he did, sit and read the Bible.
With that came all new routines. For example, we had been watching a television series called "24". It was all on DVD's we had borrowed from Reanne (Brooke's mom). So, after one intense episode, we couldn't wait to see how it ended up, so we'd put in another one, usually staying up until ungodly hours eating chocolate almonds. I thoroughly enjoyed this time alone with him, and the kids in bed. Well, after his strokes, he just did not like the "action/adventure" mode. All of that suspense would actually bring up his blood pressure! So, we stopped watching movies.
I wasn't sure what to do with myself. I was bored, and wasn't interested in any books at the time. What was worse was that I did not have the same interest in the Bible as he did. Condemnation slowly began its unrelenting approach into my heart and mind. Curtis would call me everyday on his hour drive into work and want to pray out loud with me. Though I enjoyed and appreciated this daily, overt dependence on the Lord, I was increasingly displaced. He was milder than ever in the years I had known him, and I began to look like a screaming banchee to the kids. I held to the standard so seared into my head concerning house and home, but he had relented, and implored me to calm down. Who was he? Who was I supposed to be now?
In God's amazing timing and grace, we conceived Cyrus about six weeks after Curtis was out of the hospital. Though we were obviously thrilled, the hormone changes made things even worse for me. I was extremely fatigued and slipping into serious depression. I couldn't laugh when things were really funny. What was so sad was that there was not only NOTHING to cry about, but tons to rejoice over. Curtis had been given a new lease on life, had changed his demeanor into a much kinder softer person, and was witnessing a physical healing happen in his body that even the doctors were astonished to see! I felt like a real ball and chain, keeping him from his greatest potential in the Lord. Donna Miller, our midwife, was a constant encouragement each time we'd see her. She was just as in awe over what had happened to Curtis as anyone who knew him, and she said so wisely to us both, "It's like you have to learn how to dance together again."
Yes, I'd been given a new partner, and together, we'd pull through and figure this thing out.
During those months, I clung to the Lord, slept, and had a mission all my own...to grow a healthy baby. I retreated into my bedroom and found solace in my changing body. The kids and I bided time during the hot summer days just lounging, doing laundry, cooking, and keeping up with the chickens, dogs, and cats. Because each day held something seemingly unexpected and new, many times welcoming Daddy home early, as he'd come home to escape the stress and pressure of work attempting to equalize his life, we did no school work. I had originally planned to work through the sweltering days to catch up once and for all, and then vacation and play during cooler months, but that didn't pan out. Once again, life and the pressing issues took over the priority.
As each day passed, a new dynamic set in. I'll talk more about that another day, along with several memories of our year in Decatur.