And so, with God’s help, we raised our family. Living out the struggles of every day life…along with dealing with 3 acutely ill boys. We tended to balance each other out very well. We innately knew when the other’s method was the one to follow…and we would let them take the lead. In the times I was more knowledgeable, I would lead. In the times when thinking and planning were the most important, he would lead. Which is the way I think it should be. Because God was so gracious to allow me to complete nursing school before we had children, I was usually in charge of medical matters. The myriad of things that everyday life entails…house, cars, insurance, bill paying….those were all handled by Don.

To share a little bit of the reality of everyday life with the Owens’…When I had my first kidney stone…I knew nothing more than the fact that something inside of me was running rampant and wreaking havoc and coming nigh on to causing me to scream bloody murder and alert everyone within the city limits. Don calmly watched this agonizing display of raw emotion, and encouraged me to take an aspirin and come sit on the couch with him so he could RUB MY BACK. He still does not know how close he came that evening to losing quite a few of his marbles. When I finally convinced him that I was in need of medical help…NOW!!…he went to the bedroom to get ready. I waited and waited and waited. Finally, I sent Adam to see what was holding him up. People….he was in the shower! Now, I had been living with this man for over 20 years by now…and this I knew. He NEVER takes less than a 20 minute shower. NEVER.
Not even if his wife is in labor and waiting to go to the hospital to deliver their child. Because we all know how important it is for a new father to be clean shaven and smelling good when he ‘helps’ his wife deliver this bundle of joy. You know…first impressions and all. Anyway…Back to the ‘stone story.’ I hated the thoughts of dying right in the middle of our great room….but we were surely headed in that direction. Now, I was mad, as well as near death. I told Adam…17 at the time…to help me get in his car. “Mom. you can’t drive…you are hurting too bad.” “I am not going to drive…YOU are!”I shouted through the pain. “You mean you are not going to wait for Daddy?” “If I wait for Daddy, you are going to be raised by a single parent! Let’s go!” And we did. By the time Don was finished and was ready to go, I was already being hooked up to an IV pushing glorious drugs into my system. When Don got there, I told him I was sorry, but we had to start the party without him. They ended up doing surgery the next day. And now, if I even mention ‘kidney stone’ he goes and gets the car warmed up and headed in the direction of the nearest hospital. Smart man!
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Come on back…part 3 will tell you where I’m going with these posts!