The Butterfly Effect (or how I flirted with death and lived to tell about it)

Donna and I have been quite busy lately, working on a long list of projects in an effort to prepare our house for sale. We’re downsizing as I’ve retired from my day job in the hope that I’ll be able to put more focus on my writing and my ‘Search The Bible’ Internet mission activities. But busy as we are, three weeks ago we hit the pause button and flew to the Toronto area for a brief visit with our eldest daughter and family. We’re always delighted to spend time with our family, but living in Canada, our grandchildren are scattered throughout this huge land. We have three here on Vancouver Island, two on the mainland in the Vancouver area, and four in the Toronto area (…and they’ll soon to be moving to Texas! But that’s another story).

So we took the flight to Toronto. It always amazes me that we can sit on an aircraft for five hours traveling in excess of 500 mph and never leave the country or the culture. When I was a kid in England we moved from Liverpool to Northwich, Cheshire, a distance of about 40 miles, and it was as though we’d left the planet! All of a sudden I spoke with a Liverpool accent that drew a lot of attention. And the people there were so different! The reaction of the Cheshire locals to my Liverpool (translate: “Beatles” ) accent was not unlike that of the Canadians when I moved to Canada some years later. But while only 40 miles separated both dialect and to some extent culture in my ancient homeland, today we can travel thousands of miles within Canada and observe no discernible difference in either.

But I digress. Not sure where I was going with that. I do tend to ramble sometimes.

We were greeted at Toronto Pearson by my lovely daughter who immediately gestured that she had completely lost her voice and was unable to speak. She was coughing too. It turned out that the entire clan, all six of them, were in varying stages of a seasonal plague that the grand-kids were passing around at school and sharing with whoever came near.

“Come to Nana”, “Come to Granddad!”, big hugs! “We missed you so much”.

“Did you bring me anything, Nana?”

Butterfly kisses.

Praise God for our beautiful grandchildren. We are so blessed. And I thought I was going to die! I coughed all the way home on the plane (middle seat – ugh!) For two weeks I couldn’t  breathe for coughing and wheezing. Fever, chills. Weakness. Donna couldn’t help me, she was the same! (Although my affliction was a man-cold and thus, considerably more serious). Our house sounded like a tuberculosis clinic.

I’m finally well enough to write this somewhat disconnected post in an effort to explain where I’ve been lately.

But God is good. My daughter and her family didn’t skip a beat. No missed schooldays. No sick leave taken. They are strong, healthy, beautiful, and unstoppable.

Thank you, God, for keeping my family safe. Thank you that they are protected by the blood of Jesus according to your will. Thank you for allowing us the opportunity to visit. And thanks for getting us through the consequences.

We would do it all again for just one more butterfly kiss.

God Bless.

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One Comment on “The Butterfly Effect (or how I flirted with death and lived to tell about it)

  1. Awww! Isn’t that so true. As horrific as you felt, it was still worth it. I love your ramblings. Give me more!

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