There will be many references to “my village” around this blog. Make no mistake my house is not part of a commune or even a rural small town, but my life and that of my family is LIVED in a village.
Painting the Picture
Let me paint a picture of my village at its most extreme almost 10 years ago… My kids, ages 3 and 5, had gone out to their grandparents house with my sister-in-law for the weekend. Hubs and I had a Friday date night and the plan was meet up with them on Saturday afternoon. He was in great biking shape and had decided to ride the 40 miles out to where his parents live while I finished some laundry and drove out after him. Not long after he kissed me and rode off…. I’m sure you are guessing what happened: my phone rang with a phone number that I did not recognize. I answered and my heart dropped with the first words of the voice on the other end.
My crazy man had attempted to take a sharp curve in the path more than a little too fast. He didn’t make it and his knee met a 4×4 fence post on the end of a fence that had been put up to keep riders from flying into the creek. The post won giving him a posterior dislocation of his left hip. The momentum then took him over his handlebars and the landing broke his collarbone. There he was lying on the path unable to move when this good samaritan came by and asked if he needed help.
Aftermath
That Saturday afternoon and evening will always be kind of a blur. I called his parents and my sister-in-law; she said she was willing to keep the kids. I also called friends, one of whom was a nurse at the very same hospital the ambulance took Hubs to. She and her husband came to check in on us. My nurse friend talked to her co-workers, checked the schedule and gave me the insiders run down on his care.
Surgery was scheduled for the next morning, Sunday. The friends came back to hold my hands and pray with me as I waited to see how it went. SIL took the kids to church, checked them into child care and joined us at the hospital. Hubs did great and the friends left for church so they could pick up our children and take them to lunch. SIL stayed to see her brother after he got out of recovery.
When the whirlwind of medical intervention settled the doctors told us he would walk but there was a lot of healing ahead. My sister, the physical therapist recommended we try to get Hubs admitted to an inpatient rehab. We got him into the program at the same hospital for two weeks. After that we faced three months confined to a wheelchair, regular physical therapy and a slow progression back to work as tolerated.
What now?
I had so many questions! There were so many things to do, but everywhere I turned my people… parents, sisters, friends… my village was there. My parents came the next weekend so my dad could build a ramp to give Hubs access up the three steps into our house. His boss and another friend came to help with the build. Once my parents left his mom came to stay with us. She helped with the kids so I could spend time with Hubs in rehab learning what would need to be done inside the house for him to be able to come home.
Hubs came home a day shy of two weeks later. He rolled himself up the large ramp that took over our front yard and into our house. Eventually he made his way to the “new to us” couch that was high enough for him to transfer and sit on without going past the critical 90 degree bend at the knee. Our village signed up to bring meals 3 or 4 times a week for the next month so I had one less task to do in caring for Hubs and the kids.
Looking Back
A favorite memory from this time is an evening early on in Hubs recovery. A young couple from our home group delivered dinner; the wife had worked off and on as a restaurant server. She knew that we sat down to meals as a family. Even though we were running ragged she insisted we sit down together and eat. She served us up bowls of wonderful homemade soup. In the meantime, her husband headed out to pick up light bulbs for a couple of lights that he noticed were out at our house. Sitting down to eat together was wonderful. The over the top blessing came when her husband returned with several bags. He picked up the light bulbs and the list of groceries he had pulled from the pad on the side of my fridge. As if that wasn’t enough he also brought a gift card for more groceries later.
Moving Forward
My husband can tell you it’s going to rain by the pain in his hip but he walks, runs and yes even still rides his bike. Best of all he is still here to love us, play with our now three kids and do life together. Our village brought us through what was a stressful time feeling tightly held, cared for and well fed!
Dictionary.com defines
VILLAGE [vil-ij] :
noun
1 a small community or group of houses in a rural area, larger than a hamlet and usually smaller than a town, and sometimes (as in parts of the U.S.) incorporated as a municipality.
2 the inhabitants of such a community collectively.
We don’t live in a hamlet or even a cul-de-sac. As a family we share life, meals, rides to school, hardship, hospital visits, child care, date night, homemade cookies, errand running and parenting. These things fall among many other bits and pieces of what make up a life with a community of people- our Village.
Most days our village includes one of my closest girlfriends, her hubby, three kids and her parents. It also includes two more close girlfriends, their husbands and kiddos. Other friends step in as needed or requested for extra help sometimes. Of course there are grandparents, aunts, uncles and cousins, too.
More important than the “who” in my village is the “what.” What happens when you have a need? What is your attitude toward service? What can you do for others?
If you are in need of something and I have it, you may borrow it. When I go to the grocery store I’ll text you at work to ask if you need anything. The needs of others become part of your life.
More Village Life
One everyday example is my sweet Danielle (name changed). Besides my own 3 children’s doctor and dentist appointments I regularly take my bonus child Danielle to hers. Danielle is a middle schooler who’s family are refugees. She didn’t like to smile until I started taking her to the orthodontist. (I tried to manage appointments for more than one bonus child, but it was too much.)
Here is what happens: I take one gal and you take one. Then the single mom who takes the bus to her minimum wage factory job will have two kids who are not embarrassed to smile. Those kids, make friends, do better in school, take some college credit classes before they graduate, receive high school diplomas and are awarded scholarships to play soccer while they study. In the end they help to move their entire family into a better life. This is what a village can do! This is life together!
So we don’t live on a compound with every friend next door or in the same neighborhood. My village is an amazing group of people who know our family. We invest in each others lives. The village values loving others and most importantly there is an attitude of service.
Do you have a village? What does yours look like? Maybe you are in need of a village but have no idea how to do that, I’ll be posting more on this topic soon!