July 6th, 2022 By Spud

PAX

Skinner, Mayhem, Private Ryan, Ace, Fire chicken, Scooter, Tombstone, Spud, Popeye, Mayweather

10 men gathered in the gloom as the Q would try to replace some sadness with some physical pain 

Mosey to the Lil Robert’s parking lot to…

WARM UP

SSH x25ic

Hillbillies x10ic 

Loose Change x10ic

Arm Circles forward/back 

Various leg stretches 

Mosey to Mugga Flugga for the…

THANG

Ladder 10-1 top to bottom of Mugga Flugga

Merkins – V-Ups 

So simple, yet so hard. Got about 4-4.5 miles in 45 minutes, most of them uphill. 

Sprint back to OCT for…

MARY 

Quick Broga 

PRAYERS

Highland Park Community 

Benham family for their daughter’s surgery following accident 

John and Maleigh Hightshoe on the loss of their 4 year old daughter Emmett 

MOLESKIN

I had a tough weekend. We planned to take the family up to Asheville for a couple days to get away and relax. We woke up Saturday morning and just like every other family trip it was a giant stress ball. The kids were being incredibly uncooperative, the wife was stressed about dusting the baseboards or something ridiculous that doesn’t matter, everyone was yelling at each other, and all I wanted was for the trip to be over before it had begun. We finally got loaded up in the car and as we were pulling out of the driveway we got a call. It was our close friend Maleigh Hightshoe (pronounced Molly, like Raleigh with an M). 

The Hightshoe’s daughter Emmett was in the hospital room next to Ella’s with us. They were the first family we met, and they became closer than family to us. They were with us for the entire journey, through the highest highs and the lowest lows. They had seen us at our best, and at our absolute worst. While Ella’s heart defect ended up being more serious and urgent, Emmett had significantly more problems besides just her severe heart defect. John and Maleigh spent more time in the CVICU than any other family, constantly in and rarely out. Time and again Emmett would get to the edge and cheat death. Her parents weren’t just a source of support for us, but an inspiration. They were a true picture of love for a child. Not just the sappy storybook love, but the tedious hard work of love. They were great friends, the best friends. They always knew exactly what we needed (or didn’t need) to hear. One of the beautiful things that came out of that tragic period of our lives was our friendship with them. After we lost Ella, it affected them more than anyone else besides us. Despite the grim reminder we must have been to their inevitable ending, they remained the best friends we could have ever hoped for. They still are. One of the great joys in my life has been watching Emmett form a special friendship with Bane and Hollins. We stay in touch constantly, so it wasn’t odd to be hearing from them on a Saturday morning. But parents in hospitals don’t talk on the phone much, there is a lot of sitting and texting. So it was odd to be getting a phone call rather than a text. 

We knew before we even answered the phone. With kids like Ella and Emmett, it’s not really an if but a when. We know that we will be saying goodbye to them one day and not the other way around. We hope that we can buy them enough time for science and medicine to outrun the inevitable, and depending on the severity of the defect some families are able to do that. But we all know going in what we are dealing with – an abbreviated and complicated life. I knew it was bad for Emmett, unfortunately I knew more than anyone else in our little heart community how fragile their little lives are. But I still wasn’t ready to hear it. She had fought back so many times, I’ve lost count of how many. This time it was just too much and she couldn’t fight her way back again. She passed away Saturday morning at the hospital in the arms of her parents. 

Just two weeks ago we went down to spend the day with them and keep our kids up way too late playing with each other that night. We had a lot going on and were tired and we almost rescheduled. I’m thankful we didn’t give into the laziness. Emmett was full of life and seemed stronger than ever. The kids played hard with each other and had a great time. She proudly showed my kids her new room and all her toys, like any other 4 year old. She was talking non-stop, which was special because for a while they thought she would never be able to verbally communicate. We danced to an 80’s cover band and played in a bouncy castle together. When we left she gave me a kiss and said “I love you Uncle Brian!” We talked about their next visit to our house to go swimming, but a couple weeks later she would be back in the hospital for the last time.

After the call, and making sure they didn’t want any company, we decided to go ahead with our trip. Emmett and her family have taught us time and again that life goes on. We would try our best to have a great weekend together because life is precious and life is fleeting. And honestly we just wanted to go somewhere we didn’t have to worry about running into anyone we knew because we weren’t feeling very social. 

My heart is broken, again. I loved Emmett like one of my own. If I could take her place, I would. Selfishly I miss her because to me a part of Ella lived on through her and now that’s gone too. My heart is broken, again. I know that her parents, my friends, are going through something nobody else should ever have to go through. Selfishly I relived some hard memories that it brought back. My heart is broken, again. My 6 year old has had to understand death more than most grownups. We do our best to teach him along the way, but we have no idea what we’re doing or if we’re doing it right. My heart is broken, again. For Ella. For Emmett. For them all. 

But Emmett taught me that no matter how broken your heart is you have to keep fighting back, because there’s lots of life to live in whatever time you have here. Life can feel like a never ending uphill battle sometimes, but the only way to the top is to keep going. 

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