Sam’s PICC line took an hour to an hour and half to put in. They highly suggest parents are not in the room for this. Good suggestion. I don’t leave his room much. It’s a lot harder to leave now that he’s older. I know I didn’t leave a lot when we were “living” here, but I felt more comfortable leaving back then. Thankfully, this place is not home to him anymore. Now he gets so afraid, as he should. Most of these people, although great, are strangers to him.
I decided to stroll down to the third floor, where RMH is. I walk through “the house” and start recollecting. I notice some of the changes. I see it’s a beautiful Minnesota fall day so I step out onto the patio. I’m sure my body is screaming for vitamin D at this point.
As I sit on this small patio (picture above is the view from the Minneapolis RMH Campus), the memories of this place come flooding back to me. The sounds of the city going on with its day. Once in a while, a helicopter blares above or the sirens of an ambulance race by. I close my eyes and let the warm sun beat on my face. It feels good. The memories of the beginning of Sam’s life imbedded in my heart, good and bad, begin vividly racing in my mind.
There are so many memories, and some create an extra pang in my heart. I am beyond grateful for this charity. It’s one of those things, you don’t really understand the impact of what they do, until you or someone close to you gets thrown into a situation they never thought possible.
During our extended stay, RMH was a game changer for me. For over seven months, I had a free home cooked meal, a bed when I asked for one, a friendly smile to greet me each time I walked in, a place to get away for a moment without the feeling of being in a hospital, and a nice, warm shower, when it was often well overdue.
As I rarely left the hospital, having this, home away from home, only a few steps away from Sam, made an incredibly difficult time easier, both financially and emotionally.
Some of my most emotional moments were spent at RMH, like sitting, in the warm sun, on the balcony of RMH. Or when I saw my mom, dad, and sister for the first time after they had jumped in their car from Florida on a Thursday afternoon, and made it to Minnesota by a Saturday evening. Grandpa Larry cannot deny the speeding involved.
Here a few more moments from RMH, that will forever be in my heart.
Just like any typical kid during a Minnesota summer, my friend’s two sons wanted to have a lemonade stand. At this point, Sam had been in the hospital for about a month. Unbeknownst to her, the two boys had other plans. Their intentions didn’t entail earning money for themselves. The stories they heard from their mom about how RMH had made a major impact on our family, struck a cord in their little hearts. The fine print on the sign they made reads, “all Money goes to ronald mcDonald house!”. They raised $55!! Precious.
One morning I was sitting in RMH beginning a new journal entry for Sam’s CaringBridge. I ventured to the microwave to warm-up my coffee. I was already a bit emotional. As I was waiting at the microwave, I read the back of an RMH volunteer’s shirt.
“This is the house that opens its arms, that feels like home, that embraces the children, that comforts the parents. This is the house where families meet, to eat and sleep, to find their strengths and dry their tears, to look forward with hope to better years.”
Ronald McDonald House Charities
I proceeded to tell the RMH volunteer how true the back of her shirt was. I couldn’t stop the tears from flowing. She didn’t say anything, just gave me a hug. I tried to assure her, my tears, were happy ones, because I was going to take my son home soon.
I never understood the significance of RMH until life threw a curveball at our family. We will be forever grateful for the impact RMH was and is to us today. Since the beginning of Sam’s life, RMH has been a saving grace for me.
Giving to this charity can be as easy as saving your pop tabs. Beer tabs work too. ; ) Each year, the collection we turn in to RMH gets bigger and bigger. People collect them and give them to me. Once a year, I bring the stash to RMH. They make almost $20,000 a year in donations from collecting pop tabs! It’s such a simple thing to do. If you want to start collecting, I would be happy to take the stash off your hands!
Ever since Sam has started his journey here, we have participated in the RMH Family Walk. This year the walk is virtual TOMORROW October 31st! Covid, ugh. Although, we can’t walk, I was able to set up a team last minute and would love your support! I planned to set this up a while ago, but I have been a little preoccupied. 🤣 Please consider donating to this charity that helps families during unimaginable times.