The last three-plus weeks have been a whirlwind of an adventure. So much has happened—some good, some bad. Where I sit now, things aren't too good; at least, I'm not too happy with the circumstances.

Quasi modo geniti
First of all, for those who have not explored much of my site, to put it most simply, that term refers to the first Sunday after Easter. Following the normal routine that Sunday, we loaded up the car for a trip, albeit a short one, to Huron, SD. It was time for the Spring Pastors' Conference; a time away from home with a group of guys generally of like mind (minor differences of opinion, at most, if anything).

The topic of discussion was the history of the church's hymnody. We looked through the synod's new hymnal. It was the kind of subject matter I am interested in (though I have little musical training); therefore, not necessarily new information to me, but interesting nonetheless.

Free time was spent at the pool with the kids. The first evening was the first time Robert tried swimming with the arm floaties. He wasn't too interested in it, deciding it was better to cling to me rather than sink (not that he would). The next night, we were back in the pool and Robert was swimming like a natural. Guess he's one who gets over his fears quickly...and learns quickly too; a good thing, but also a dangerous thing.

Wednesday came and it was time to head back and prepare for our vacation.

Chicago, Part I
Wednesday began with a trip back to Marion. Unload the car, repack stuff, reload the car...oh wait, Genevieve took the kids, first, to get a chiropractic adjustment. In the meantime, I took a nap to prepare for the long overnight drive to Chicago.

However, before we could leave, there was the matter of a voters' meeting at the Parker church. Quickly in, quickly out...well, it started at 7, we concluded at 9. In short order, we were on the road.

We decided to try a different route, this time. Usually, we take I-90 all the way across (to I-290 into metro Chicago). This time, we went through Iowa, taking I-29 down to I-80, and 80 over to I-55. I-55 runs very near to my mother-in-law's house. Plus, this way avoids all the toll roads.

So, we spent some time in Stickney, had breakfast at our usual stop, visited with some friends the first night, rested up, and generally enjoyed the company of family and other people who love us.

As I type this, I am trying to think of some highlights of this part of the trip, but I can't outright. That's not to say nothing happened, for things did happen. What's nice to say about it is that so few highlights means it was a nice, quiet time.

The strangest place for a pastor is in a pew, especially on Sunday. That's where this pastor found himself on Sunday morning. We were in attended at a place we call our "church home away from home"; St. Paul Evangelical Lutheran Church of Brookfield. It's a place we know to be solid, confessional, liturgical...Lutheran (surrounded by so much in the area that merely pretends to be Lutheran...a Baptist by any other name, if you will).

After church, we hurried to my mother-in-law's place to change, load up the car, and prepare for the next part of our adventure.

Surf, Sun, and Fun
It what goes down as the longest drive that still impresses me, we drove from Chicago to Tallahassee. Now, we've done it before, only without kids in the car. We left Chicago around 1:30pm, Sunday, and arrived in Tallahassee late morning, Monday (the exact time escapes me). To spend nearly a day—nearly 24 hours—in a car...

As with the first part of our vacation, the first day in the new location was spent recovering from the trip. Again, we spent some time among those who love us, ate some delicious home-cooking, and watched a movie courtesy of my brother who works at a movie rental establishment.

The milestone event, as I would see it, was a trip to St. George Island and a day at the beach on Monday. It was so nice to be near the ocean again; I miss it so much being here in the plains. The kids...well, Robert...seemed to enjoy it a lot, too. We would sit at the water's edge and let the waves (1/2 to 1 foot high) hit us; we played and built castles in the sand (well, I built them, Robert played the part of Godzilla). And I know the grandparents enjoyed playing with the kids at the beach.

Tuesday and Wednesday were more days of relaxing vacation; preparation for the return drives, as it were...or as it should have been.

Chicago, Part II
Thursday morning found us leaving for Chicago. It was time to spend nearly a day in the car again. And, like last time, we arrived in Chicago late morning on Friday. The plan was to rest and prepare ourselves for the return to South Dakota.

The Ton of Bricks
Genevieve woke early on Saturday morning, the day we were going to drive back home, to find her mother sitting in her wheelchair, not quite right. She couldn't form words correctly; she wasn't fully clothed; she was exhibiting typical signs of having suffered a stroke. 911 was called and my mother-in-law was ferried to the hospital.

We made some other phone calls to let others know what was happening. I had to call back to South Dakota to let my ecclesiastical supervisors know that I would be unable to return home as scheduled. Fortunately, they were able to shore up someone on short notice, so our stay in Chicago was lengthened. As a surprise to us and the pastor, we were in attendance at St. Paul again that Sunday.

Let's just say, it wasn't an easy stay. I was torn because I wanted to be there with my family, but I needed to be back here in order to support them. All the while, my mother-in-law seemed to be getting better one moment, and not the next. She is not the same woman she once was as the stroke has affected her personality/temperment. As a result, she has not been cooperating with the therapists. She hasn't been eating. The situation has been frustrating enough.

Well, we were finally able to make our way back home, leaving Thursday night after visiting my mother-in-law. She had just been transferred to the hospital's transitional care unit (a sort of therapy wing). For me, it was a trip to get back to work (and get looking for and start working at a second job, since my pay was cut due to a budget crisis in my parish). For Genevieve, it was a time to try and remove herself from the situation, at least geographically, for a time and repack for a return trip with the kids.

Now, it is the evening of Monday, May 7. After a lunch together with my family, I find myself alone at home...alone for at least two weeks before they return for a short time. As I write this, Genevieve and the kids are making their way through Iowa, trying to get back to Chicago. She is my mother-in-law's power-of-attorney and needs to be there to help make decisions. Perhaps more importantly, she needs to clean out my mother-in-law's house and get it ready to sell, as my mother-in-law will most likely not be living there anymore.

Neither of us are particularly pleased with the situation. We want to be mad, but there is no one to be mad at.

Then, in a phone call, Genevieve tells me that the absence is starting to make sense to Robert, as during the trip, he had said, "Dada, new car?" and she replied with "No, dada's at home" to which he started crying. Break. My. Heart. I miss them dearly. Yes, I know I will see them again, soon, but I'd rather not be apart from them at all.

So, here I sit, trying to recall everything that happened, trying to collect my thoughts, waiting for the phone calls as they travel back to Chicago, wishing I could be with them. I already know that it'll be hard to find the motivation to get up and work (as if supporting my family wasn't enough motivation). I'll be surprised if the four of us make it through this without at least one of us needing some sort of counseling or psychiatric care.

Please, keep us all in your prayers.