Dead Lobster

This evening we met my parents and my baby brother in Santa Fe at a restaurant to introduce my brother to the baby. It should be noted here that my bro is completely petrified of babies. He seriously has some sort of repellent in him...I don't know what it is, but prior to tonight, the last time we handed a baby to Bro, he pushed the baby out at arms length and held the baby by the baby's armpits for about a nanosecond, and then asked us if we could take "it" back.

So my whole goal of the evening was to catch "Uncle" Bro holding the baby in a photograph. I figure he'll be able to avoid holding her forever after this, and we'll have proof to the baby that at some time, Uncle Bro did hold her. Good 'nuff, right?

Bro took the baby and actually cradled her in his arms. I'm not entirely sure what happened next, because I think the brain will actually sometimes prevent oneself from remembering exactly what happened before a crisis. I know the baby was making some movement, and we'd been cracking jokes, and laughing so hard that most of us were practically falling off our chairs. I looked at my father, who was trying to cough through his laughter, and realized he was really red. I asked Dad if he was ok, and he shook his head NO, right as he began to literally fall off his chair towards my mother.

My mother has arthritis, and my father is not a small man. Mom pushed him with one hand back towards his chair as Hubby leaped from his chair to try to catch Dad. I said in a loud firm voice (I don't think I yelled it...Mom said later it was "textbook") for someone to call 911, and somehow shoved the stroller out of the way and didn't knock over my brother or the baby as I raced around the table.

You know how time stands still? Everything slows down to such a non-existent pace that you just suddenly see everything around you? The whole room of the restaurant was slowed way down. Strangers were shoving back their chairs with horrified expressions on their faces, and a man was suddenly behind my father with me on the side. I was contemplating how to lower my father to the ground because there was no way I could get around him for the Heimlich maneuver and I really thought he was choking on a crouton or something.

And just like that, Dad started to breathe again.

I don't think my mother will ever be the same. I'm not sure Bro will ever be the same. I'm not sure about Hubby either. In retrospect, I've always known that God teaches us lessons at all sorts of opportunities, and I learned that as scared as I may be, I will not just sit still...

We also learned that God always surrounds us. A while later, the man that had magically appeared behind my father came up to us and told us that he was with Santa Fe Sheriff's Department and recently became a chaplain--he told us that he was really glad he didn't have to use his training to help Dad...and we're all grateful that we didn't need neither his first aid/CPR training nor his chaplain services.

So while the restaurant had a family joke name before, it's a little too close to home now. And I'm pretty sure it'll be a long time before we enter its doors.