The Big Bump

North Vine Street was a small dead-end road that the town of Winchendon, MA did not want to claim, it seems. When all the other roads in town were constantly having to be paved and patched because of the harsh, frosty winters, North Vine Street was never given much attention. For many years, my family dodged the bumps and straddled the pot holes of North Vine Street on our frequent trips to my grandparents house. There is one particular bump on North Vine Street that I will never forget. It was the biggest mound of buckling asphalt on the street and it was directly in front of my grandparents driveway. The big bump was certainly in need of repair, but no one really considered it a nuisance. The grandchildren, in fact, grew to love it because they could launch bicycles off it when showing off their daring jumps. I don’t recall, but it may have been used in other ways, too. The fact is that we learned to live with the big bump and even got something out of it.

Tuesday morning, my wife started getting the news that the best treatment for our five week old baby Noah might be a heart transplant. It was devastating to her and she called me for support. I, being at work at least an hour away from her, was also crushed by the news. My brother-in-law best described the feeling when he called me later that evening. He’s a Marine who spent three months in the hospital with his daughter when she was born three months premature, so he’s got an idea of how it feels when you get that kind of news. He said it’s like a solid sucker-punch to the abdomen, one that comes out of nowhere, stuns you, hurts you and takes your breath away. We chatted about when there is nothing but improvements in your baby’s health for a few days and you, the parents, are on cloud nine. Then one night you go to bed and wake up the next morning and wham, there’s that sucker punch that knocks out all your hope. My brother-in-law encouraged me to keep up my hope, though, because it will get better.

I have started seeing the positives again. I have to find hope and I have to help my wife find hope or we’ll go crazy. On a walk from the Ronald McDonald House to the hospital yesterday I saw one of the helicopters land on the hospital, which really pushed me to count my blessings. The number one thing I’m thankful for throughout this whole ordeal is that we’ve got Noah. My wife and I have really grown to love our son and we’re thankful for having been given the chance to know him. I think that if you held him, you would fall in love with him too. He’s perfect.

Having seen the helicopter land on the hospital caused me to be thankful that things aren’t that bad. At least, our troubles are probably not as bad as the patient that may have had to be airlifted to the hospital. I’m also thankful that Noah’s condition is treatable with a couple of different options of treatment. I’m thankful that there’s an institution close by that treats Noah’s condition and that there’s a Ronald McDonald House that families like our’s can stay at when they have children in the hospital. Finally, I’m thankful to have family and friends and even strangers who have reached out to us. For everyone who has reached out to us, from grandparents who drop everything to take care of our two year-old daughter when we call on them to my coworker in Iraq who sent me a short email offering encouragement, my wife and I are so very appreciative.

As with the big bump on North Vine Street, my family will learn to live with our own bump in the road with all our blessings. I hope that one day, we’ll realize that we’ve even utilized Noah’s heart for something great.

Love to all, Tim