COUNTRY ECHOES


| May/June 1977



R. R. 2, Brandon, Wisconsin 53919

Three O'clock in the morning seems to be thought time for some of us. My rough draft pad travels with me wherever I go. It helps to catch the fleeting of memorie's moments, both happy and sad, and its untidy pages seem to stretch ahead to a future none of us can anticipate.

Right now I have a new grandbaby, Gwenn Catherine Harmann, lying on her stomach, across my lap, as I sit here on the edge of the bed. My pad is on my pillow. Our new Little Gwenn has just had her two o'clock feeding and has burped like an old steam engine belching out smoke. She has downed four ounces of formula and is still chewing on her hands, somewhat. I don't dare to feed her anymore right now. I told her parents, yesterday, that she is a country girl for sure, almost nine pounds at birth, pretty as a picture and already eating like an old-time thresherman.

But her mama isn't doing too well right now. Her husband took her back to the hospital after being at home for four days. They are feeding her intravenously as she has a diarrhea which has drained her badly. They feared she was beginning to dehydrate. Her natural supply of food for the baby dried up as a result and Grandma took over the care of the baby. Oh, how sweet it is to hold and care for this precious life! So joy and fear were mingled as Mary's temperature soared to 103.8 degrees F. She really gave us a scare.

As we were struggling with this problem early in the week the telephone rang. It was our daughter, Ginni, from De Soto, Kansas. She was in tears as they had just rushed their middler, Brian, who is ten, to the hospital with an appendix which was threatening to rupture. He had surgery and drainage tubes in for three days. The doctor told them one more day and they might have lost him.

Tomorrow my Mr. B. enters the hospital for hip surgery. So I will head back for Brandon. Tom and Mary insist I must go home, and of course, I want to be with him, but I am torn right down the middle.