"... TO GIVE UNTO THEM BEAUTY FOR ASHES, THE OIL OF JOY FOR MOURNING, THE GARMENT OF PRAISE FOR THE SPIRIT OF HEAVINESS; THAT THEY MIGHT BE CALLED TREES OF RIGHTEOUSNESS,THE PLANTING OF THE LORD, THAT HE MIGHT BE GLORIFIED." ISAIAH 61:3

Sunday, November 2, 2014

Grandma Carol















We lost Carol on the 6th of October.

It's always difficult to loose a loved one. But this happened so suddenly, so unexpectedly. We're still trying to grasp it.

Joey had a great relationship with his mom. He called her every day after work - about noon her time.

So many of you have asked what happened. This is what we know...

Their last conversation started out fine, but a few minutes in, Carol asked Joey to call her back. She felt like she was going to be sick.
He waited a bit, then tried to call.
No answer.
He called every few minutes for two hours. She never answered.
At this point we were worried, so Joe tried his sisters.
The closest one drove out to the farm and found Carol on the floor.  She was awake, but couldn't move. Not even to reach the phone. She tried to speak, but was hard to understand. Her left arm and leg were completely numb.
We got through to the sister's cell as they were trying to get her to the hospital.
The next bit of news we received - they were flying her to Fayetteville, thinking she was having a heart attack.
At this point, we booked a flight home for Joey. We assumed Carol would need ample recovery time and he wanted to be there.
Our next update - she was in surgery. It wasn't a heart attack. It was a torn aorta. They would have to rebuild it with grafts from her thighs. This made things more risky, but we were still confident she'd be OK.
Five hours later - still in surgery and all was going well.
Two or three times the family was informed that she was doing well and the procedure should be finished soon.
Two hours later, out of the blue - "She didn't make it."
Blind-sided.
Stunned.
Numb.

We cancelled Joey's flight. His battalion provided tickets for the four of us.
Twenty-eight hours of travel later, we finally arrived.
Visitation the next day, funeral the day after that.
Then the inevitable red-tape that follows a death.
Inopportune meetings with lawyers to divvy and divide. The incredibly uncomfortable doling out of ones life.
Deeds, titles, and taxes......when all you want to do is remember,
and grieve,
and heal.

Thank you to so many friends who supported our family through this time. We tried to see as many of you as we could in the short time we had.

And to the Polo community as a whole... you were amazing neighbors to Carol for so many years! It seems every time we called, one or more of you had checked on her or helped her out with something on the farm. Thank you.

We're slowly accepting that she's gone. It's not easy. Joey still wants to pick up that phone after work and hear her voice on the other end.
Please keep us, and Joey's sisters, in your prayers.













































Miss her bunches.