Pieces of the Puzzle

So, I got a job! Yeah me!!! Since I can’t blog for a living, I had to go out and secure full time employment outside the confines of the Easy Swede.

I am going to be working at a hospital in Salinas. This particular hospital has some significance in my family’s history that I can’t just gloss over. In fact, this whole move is right out of the twilight zone in so many ways.

To understand this story, one must start at the beginning.

In the swinging crazy 70′s there was a super hot dark haired fella who owned 3 beauty schools on the coast of California. From what I understand, he was the talk of the town and quite the ladies man. One of his students, a beautiful young blonde who lived in Monterey, caught his attention fully.

According to the blonde, it was love at first sight. A bit later, the beauty school owner and the beauty school student were married. They lived in Salinas and were very happy. The blonde got pregnant – with TWINS! They were so happy and prepared for the arrival of their children. One fall day, when the blonde was about 8 months pregnant, she was out doing some gardening and went into early labor.

They rushed to hospital where they worked hard to stop her labor. However, at some point things went wrong and the boys were delivered. This is were things get fuzzy. The blonde was grief stricken and the husband and doctors took charge of the situation. The beautiful blonde, first time mommy, lost her two boys somewhere between labor and delivery.

Nowadays things would be so different. There would be testing and funerals and time to grieve. Back then, in the swinging 70′s, the couple wasn’t given much information and the grief swallowed most of the details whole.

The couple would go on to have a little chubby dark haired angel (if I do say so myself) about 18 months later in another town, a few hours away. Her labor and delivery would be much more joyful and proper. The blonde and her dark haired hubby would be elated and their family would be as complete as they would ever know it to be.

Sometime about 2 years later the dark haired teacher, lover, friend and companion would pass away from cancer. He would take with him the memories of the two boys born early. The blonde would valiantly raise that dark haired little girl and always wonder what really happened that fall day so long ago, when things went so terribly awry.

As I walked into the hospital for my final interview with the still gorgeous blonde by my side, I couldn’t help but wonder what it was like for her. She would see me walk away to my interview, as she headed off to medical records to see if there was any hope of finding out what happened 34 years ago in that same hospital.

What we know now, is that she most likely lost those boys because of a blood clotting issue. The same issue that caused my miscarriages, the same issue that caused the untimely death of my grandfather. Most of the details are still missing but a journey has begun to finally put some pieces of that puzzle together for good.

Life has a strange way of coming full circle. Of twisting and turning and making you wonder where in the world you are going. To see the blonde that day, staring into the mouth of that hospital that swallowed up the memories of her first born children was humbling. As a child there are days when you hate your parents and there are days when you can’t get enough of them. Few and far between are the days when you actually get to understand who they really are and from what they’ve come. Those are the best days.

The blonde survived the loss of her babies and her husband. The loss of a dream of what life could be. She survived and made the best of her life with her dark haired little girl. For this, the dark haired girl is forever grateful.

As I go to work in this hospital, the same one where my brothers saw only a moment of life, I will be keenly aware of my history and from what, by the grace of God I’ve come.

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