REMEMBERING

It was so long ago that it happened, and as I walked to his gravesite I paused for a moment and read some of the headstone dates that defined lives lived so long ago. I particularly try not to read them for I am afraid I will find one or two that indicate an infant under the grass beneath the stones. A life not lived is life not all, and children need to live. It still grabs me by the throat when I do, and a little sadness swells in the heart as I imagine the poor parent’s pain of such an occurrence.

This past Father’s Day I made my usual pilgrimage to his place of rest. His birthday and anniversary are the other days for sure I will visit, and when I visit Mom and Dad or my in-laws, or my brothers-in-law, I stop by and I talk to him. Then a sudden stillness hits, my mind retreats to the day he was born, the day he started to walk, the days he smiled, all the days of his young life, only to be terminated too soon, and I ask myself: why? I know that I will never forget him, that he is alive in my heart and soul and right now, he is helping me see my way through another child in crises, my daughter Ellen.

In the middle of the night our home phone rang, I didn’t hear it but my wife did. She answered and quietly dressed as she made her way to the hospital where my wife was once again, like she always is, by a child of hers in need. When I awoke from my sleep I showered and dressed then went downstairs to begin my day. There was a note sitting on my chair, and I knew immediately that something once again was wrong, one of my children was in trouble and mamma was there for the child.

Her note explained that only one of us could go to the hospital because of restrictions, only one of us could be there to assure our child that no matter what happens, we will be there, and once again, some part of us will be taken away, bit by bit, until someday there will be nothing left for us to give.

We don’t know what is wrong with my daughter, her blood pressure is way down and she is vomiting, other issues need to be addressed and we won’t know anything until probably, tomorrow. Pray for her.