Thursday, June 12, 2008

Summer Nights

I was on call the other night. Maybe two hours of sleep between 4:00 p.m. and 8:00 am. Three people died. Three others came close. One had arrived by ambulance, one by helicopter. Other things happened, too. And each of the NICU babies grew a tiny bit stronger.

Tonight the Lovely Daughter and I took the dog on a walk around the block and then sat on the front porch for awhile and talked. I told her all kinds of stories about my family that she has never heard. She is a young woman now, able to hear the things that almost no one discusses. Tomorrow she heads off to North Carolina for her job as a camp counselor.

I should have thought about this a little more carefully a few months ago when I was encouraging her to spend one last summer playing in waterfalls. If my days (and some nights) are going to be filled with people who are dying or who are watching other people die, if I am going to hear over and over again It's God's will God takes people when God wants God never gives us more than we can handle God is in control, if I am going to offer prayers that result in tears breaking through, if I am going to be prowling the halls of a giant hospial at 4:00 am ~ then I am going to long endlessly for hot summer night conversations on the front porch with the young woman who was once my tiny girl.

6 comments:

Presbyterian Gal said...

It's always a poignant thing when the going spur us to appreciate what's here.

LawAndGospel said...

Very touching. My older Lutheran Chick is getting ready to leave next week for a month in Minnesota- I am finding her leaving for this trip is affecting me more than her others- as I like you and walking the landscape of faith and crisis here at the Regional Trauma Center in the City.

Joan Calvin said...

In my prayers. I can't tell you how many times I bit/bite my tongue. It's a huge place and you are a sign of hope and healing and God's love. Blessings on your time.

more cows than people said...

(o)

Lovie said...

Robin, your reference to NICU babies brought back such a powerful memory for me, that I feel I must share it with you. Our daughter had just given birth to our first grandchild, a girl. When we arrived at the hospital, excited to greet this new soul, we were astounded to see the doctor's wife and children (intimate family friend's) engaged in intense prayer for our grandchild. It seems that she was born with a rare form of pneumonia. We were allowed a few minutes with her before she was whisked away by ambulance to the nearest large city NICU. Of course, our duaghter couldn't go with her. Our friend's suggested that my husband and I as "next of kin" follow the ambulance. That really made us see the seriousnes of the situation. Of course, we did just that. All that night, my husband and I sat next to her little isolette. Loving her, as she held to our pinkies with her little hours old hands. We never let go and she didn't either. Today she is a thriving almost 6 year old. Even though we prayed silently all night long as she clung to our fingers, it would have been so comforting to have had someone like you there.;

Mrs. M said...

This is beautiful. Reminds me again why I'm so fond of you.