It was Sunday (January 20) and we were standing in Grandma’s hospital room. They were releasing her the next day but there was still a question of where she would go. She couldn’t go home yet. She needed to rehabilitate her leg. My mother mentioned Courts of Holt on Willoughby Road. I had been there while in high school and also when Joey’s grandmother stayed there a short time. No way. No how. My grandmother wasn’t going there. The people there were falling apart. They were crazy. They were sick and yelling. The place was depressing. It smelled. I delicately expressed my concerns.
The next day was MLK Jr. Day. For the first time in Valassis history, we had this day off (more like, by the grace of God, I had the day off). My mother called me that morning and explained that Courts of Holt had an open bed and grandma was being released at 1:00 p.m. I told my mom I would go check the place out. Praying continually, I pulled into the parking lot. I bowed my head with one final prayer: please, Lord, show me this place is going to be okay to keep her in. I took a deep breath and entered.
It wasn’t gloomy at all. A giant bird cage thing stood in the lobby with colorful little birds. People watched the birds in their wheelchairs (or they just slept in their wheelchairs). I found the manager and she immediately knew why I was there. “Let me show you where your grandmother will be staying.” She took me down the hall and then at the nurse’s station we turned down another hall. I voiced my concerns. I didn’t want my grandmother to stay here. The woman responded, “she can’t. They is temporary. This is until she gets her leg healed. This is for rehabilitation. Would you like to see the rehabilitation room?” I nodded. What could it hurt?
Well, remember that prayer I prayed asking God to show me everything would be okay? I walked into the rehab room and as the manager talked, one of the physical therapists turned around. “Marge!” I shouted with joy. “Holly!” she shouted back. She walked over to me and hugged me. I lost it and started crying. It was like hearing God say, “I told you I would take care of you. I told you to have faith and you did. Don’t forget I love you.” See, Marge is the woman I met in 2006 while running the Autumn Classic. She had painted the back of her shirt to read, “I can do all things through Him that strengthens me.” I have prayed with Marge before and have been seeing her at more and more races. I told her what had happened with grandma and she assured me all would be well.
“I prayed for God to show me this facility would be okay. You’re the answer He gave me,” I said.
“He is faithful and this place will be great for grandma,” Marge said.
With chills inside of me but a warm heart, I left for the hospital to prepare grandma for her trip.
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