the holly & the ivy

At various seasons my blog has carried a photo tribute and memoir of each of my children on their birthdays. This exercise of collecting, scanning, posting, and reflecting on the days of their births and their lives to date has, I suppose, brought the most pleasure to me than to anyone. This is because it has allowed me to remember and contemplate again the days of my life which have been the most significant and which I cherish the most. However, I hope it also brings a great deal of pleasure to the "child" being honored and remembered, the siblings (as they cannot be separated from the story), the father (without whom these pages would not exist:), and anyone else who is invested enough to have an interest in these amazing people.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, DAVID GILCHRIST GARBER!

Just a month before his birth, my grandmother, Greeta Coleman, died at the age of 90 in Winchester, Kansas. Here I am, very pregnant and wearing my favorite maternity dress for this pregnancy, which was hand made for me by dear friend Wanda Haney. (Thank you, Wanda--I loved that dress!)

From left to right are Eden, age 4, my mom and dad (Winifred & Howard Elliott), then in their late 60's, me (age 32), and Elliott, age 2.

Welcome to the world, David Gilchrist Garber!

Born August 4, 1983

12:40 pm on Thursday

7 pounds 13 ounces

19.5 inches long

David had the distinction of being born in Colorado Springs, Colorado. Of our children, he alone shares the distinction of being a

Coloradan with his dad.

The story of David's birth is unique, like all birth stories. Steve worked for InterVarsity at the time, and we spent a significant amount of time in the summers at camps for college students held at Bear Trap Ranch, 7 miles up the mountain on the Old Stage Road (going to Cripple Creek) from the Broadmoor Hotel. Once the road passed the winter Olympic practice rinks, the luxurious grounds of the hotel and a neighborhood of fancy homes, it turned into a twisty, turning, dirt and gravel road that u-turned its way up the mountain. Bear Trap was nestled in a pocket of these mountains--a beautiful place with its log cabins and lodge, stables and small green, surrounded by the steep inclines of the mountains and dense pine forest.

David was scheduled to arrive just two weeks after camp, but to play it safe, I saw a doctor and visited a hospital when we got to camp, just in case this one came early. And a good thing too, because early on the morning of August 4 (18 days ahead of schedule), I was awakened by a familiar pulling and pushing feel, and after breakfast in the dining hall and getting Eden and Elliott happily ensconced with friends at camp, we headed down the mountain. After two 24-hour labors with Eden and Elliott, I expected to have plenty of time, but the jouncing down the Old Stage Road must have done the trick because I was practically ready to deliver when we arrived at Memorial Hospital in the Springs. When Steve came back to the hospital room after getting me registered, I was gone to delivery already. A nurse threw him a gown and hair net and pointed the way just in time for him to be present at David's birth.

Oh, happy day--He was beautiful!!

After three days in the hospital with a smoking roommate (!)-- can you imagine!? --I was ready to get back to camp. We bounced back up the road and put him in a bureau drawer padded with blankets. Everyone was certainly excited to have a new baby at camp, and there were many well wishes. Unlike his siblings, he seemed to sleep often and well. Could this be a Garber baby? Then two days back at the ranch and I began to wonder if he was sleeping too well. After a particularly long nap, I decided to wake him, and found him hot and refusing to be roused. Yikes! Red Flags! It was back into the car to bounce down to a family doctor I had never met but who had been highly recommended by friends as a good doctor and fellow believer. Within about 5 minutes of being in his examining room, he said, "Go straight through the front door and across the street to Penrose Community Hospital. Have him admitted, and I'll meet you over there."

Thus began the hours of fast beating hearts, instigated prayer chains, and perplexity as poor, tiny David was subjected to a variety of spinal taps and tests, with the diagnosis of spinal meningitis coming back from the mouth of a grim-faced doctor. I cried every time I got on the phone with anyone--imagine post-partum hormones and a seriously ill baby.

Since this was a small community hospital (not the one he was born in), the loving staff of nurses and technicians bent over backwards, with time to comfort and hold through the night and pamper our young family, away from home and facing a crisis. What a blessing! And since I was feeding the patient, the hospital fed and housed me right beside him, and in many ways those were peaceful days of quiet, receiving visitors who always prayed with us, and healing. Though David appeared to thrive, put back on his birth weight, had good color, no temperature, he was being dosed with heavy medications intravenously, and we were signing off on papers that warned of likely side effects such as deafness. Every few days he was subjected to a spinal tap, and three subsequent times, the test came back the same--active spinal meningitis. The doctor was puzzled--the baby seemed to be doing well, yet the tests showed otherwise. We overheard his conversation with the nurse when the last results came back. His voice was confident requesting the results and then his mood and voice fell when he read them, baffled.

So he came back in to see us with the bad news, and with an idea. He was calling a pediatric disease specialist from Denver's Children's Hospital to ask if he would come see David. The visit was scheduled in two days. (We were so grateful for this doctor who cared so deeply and also prayed with us.) In the meantime, we had requested that the elders of a church where we had attachments come to pray over David and anoint him with oil (James 5:14). That evening they came and faithfully prayed for David's healing, anointing him with oil. We knew the Lord's presence there and were encouraged.

Early on in the hospitalization, my dear parents arrived to take Eden and Elliott home to Kansas, to give them the love and attention they needed while Steve and I were consumed with our care and concern for David. Below is my dad visiting the hospital before they started back on the long drive.

The next morning the genial, down-to-earth, pediatric disease specialist from Denver's Children's Hospital arrived. He went through the rounds of looking David over, prodding, turning, observing carefully this and that, studying the test results, and then said, "He's a peach! I can't see a thing wrong with him! Let's take him off all medication, halt the testing, and observe him a few days." Four days later I was on a plane to Kansas with David (Steve was driving through the night to beat us there.), thanking God for his gracious healing in our lives and gratefully accepting the admiring remarks and attentions of fellow travelers for my beautiful new baby. Thanks be to God!

[On an interesting side note, years later on a trip to Jerusalem, the Christian family doctor from Colorado Springs, Dr. Robert Ridley, and his wife were in the same group Steve was with, and they were able to reminisce about that time.]

So, dear David, though this is true for all of us, we felt strongly the hand of God on your young life in preserving you for the purposes He had and has. This need not be a weight or a burden but truly a blessing on your life. We claimed God's covenant blessings for you at your baptism by our close friend Randy Van Osdol, with Granddad Elliott also participating. It happened on a Sabbath evening in November, I think.

The happy family. . .

Subsequent visits were made by Grandma Garber, here with an adoring Elliott and Eden.

Always showing a proclivity to partying and humor, here is David at a family party for Elliott's third birthday in March of 1984.

As the season changed from winter to spring, we began to spend more time outdoors again--David in his special hat knitted by Grammy and sitting in his hard, green, plastic infant seat. That's what we had in those days!

A happy moment with Grammy!

Unlike some of his siblings, David was not bothered with colic or crankiness. This genial good nature grew into a wonderful sense of humor and easy-going nature.
The nativity puzzle with Granddad Elliott, the year that he gave it to us--our first Christmas in Pittsburgh, 1984.
We moved to Pittsburgh in time to be near Great Grandma Gilchrist at the RP Home. It was a special treat for David to sit with the Grandma from whom he got his middle name, Gilchrist, which means, "Servant of Christ."

A moment of repose with Granddad Garber in front of our Lawrence house. (oops--a little out of order) Let's hope that's something edible in your mouth, but it could very well be a common stick as well.
There were many walks in Frick Park, at the end of the block of our first Pittsburgh apartment.
A quiet moment on the second floor balcony of the "7540 Ken--sing--ton" house. (Please, please take a nap....)

That looks like the same stick from the picture with Granddad Garber!
Do I really have to go down now? A first visit to the California coast...
Awwww. Good ol' Lady--that perfect pet...at Camp Curry
Happy Second Birthday! Please note the cow cake in honor of being at Grammy's and in the country where we were seeing lots of cows for that birthday.

Interesting note: David has spent almost all (with the exception of a couple perhaps) his birthdays away from home, including his actual birthday! Many of them have been while we have been on vacation somewhere or someplace where Steve was working or speaking. So now the pressure is always on as to whether he can spend a birthday at home or even wants to.

David did not share a love of insects with Elliott, as Elliott aparently hoped in this scene.And now...a big change on the horizon. The twins are expected, ending David's 5 and a half years as the youngest child in the Garber family. About 6 weeks before they were expected we took a little family vacation to a state park where I had fond childhood memories--Clear Creek State Park--in Pennsylvania. There we tried to enjoy the calm before the storm, as you see David and I doing here. (No, he is not gagging himself! I'm sure he loved this story!)
A few months after their birth, he got our attention by slicing part of the way through his hand while cutting his own bagel in half while no one was around. As he screamed and shook the injured hand, blood splattered everywhere around the kitchen, making it appear to be the scene of an ax murder.
After a brief two years at the Open Wardrobe School, he got his wish and happily matriculated at Rivendell School.

...where he mostly happily spent his next 8 years of schooling. Handsome boys at cousin Caleb's wedding. Oh, woe is Jonathan, who as ring bearer had to wear a jacket.

And so the years begin to fly by, each one bringing more maturity into that handsome face with the incredibly long eye lashes.

Oh, dear. Yes, David, you did want to sign-up for football, but at least now you know that you don't like playing football, despite being a wonderful athlete.
Sandie nobly trying to encourage that inner football player...
At Eden's high school graduation
...and at Rivendell Graduation--a thinner, taller, more self-conscious David...

The bros, maturing...
...and likewise, the sibs
As a college man with his dad...
And another birthday--probably 25 (if I'm remembering correctly). This one at Chincoteague, thanks to the Blunts.

I love you so much, David!
Oh, that sense of humor...(in his lungi in India)
...that man of maturity...
...the man of deep thoughts and dreams...

...the caring brother...
...the enthusiastic environmentalist...
...always ready to party...
...digging in and looking to the future for urban renewal...