Love is a Verb

I witnessed love in action on our pre-Christmas family vacation. My three year old grandson was sent up to be with us so that he wouldn't miss out on the vacation with his cousins and so that we could help ease the burden on his mommy at home. (His daddy became very ill, and ended up needing to have surgery.)

On the afternoon the little guy arrived he was full of energy. He was dancing with his cousins, up and down the stairs, played in the snow, and so happy to finally be on the long anticipated family vacation.

I made beds for he and his older brother in my room. Everyone had just dozed off when the three year old awoke and threw up all over his bedding and himself. I cleaned up bedding and the little guy two more times throughout the night.

I was hoping that was it but the days and nights that followed was filled with more of the same. 

There he was miles and miles away from his

 mommy and daddy and he was sick.

He asked for a washcloth, I gave it to him,

he held it close, and it comforted him.

He was very quiet, he did not complain, he did not cry.

His older brother checked on him frequently 

to see if there was anything he needed.

His girl cousin who is six was very compassionate towards him. 

She checked on him and sat and talked to him several times each day.

He would eat but we had to be prepared for it to come back up.

His aunts shared their encouragement, love, and the 

sweet tender care they would for their own sick children.

His uncles and all of his cousins did the same. On one of the days

his uncle bravely invited him to go for a ride with him

in his truck so he could get out of the house for a while.

Papa and I did all we could to help keep him comfortable.

One evening while the rest of the cousins 

were being read a Christmas story I was 

holding the poor little guy on my lap.

Without notice, I was covered

 in vomit and so was he.

My daughters flew into action.

One grabbed the little guy and 

whisked him off for a bath.

 Another went for cleaning supplies

to clean up the floor and chair.

I was sent to the showers!

In that moment as I sat covered in vomit

my heart was filled with

gratitude for my family members

and for the countless unselfish acts of love

and service that we are so blessed with

in our family.

There was absolutely no hesitation 

to be on the front lines of caring

for our little loved one.

Thankfully, no one else  got

sick while we were there.

Late afternoon on Christmas day it

caught me!

I experienced just how quick the onset

was of this particular stomach bug.

Within minutes I was aching from what

seemed to be the middle of my bones to

every square inch of my skin.

I went home, climbed in bed, and stayed there. 

I too stayed very still because it hurt to move.

My thoughts turned to my little grandson and the aches

and pains that he must have suffered.

Unlike him, I did complain and I did cry a bit.

My "wet washcloth" was a warm and cuddly

flannel tied quilt made for me by my mother.