God didn’t promise days without pain, laughter without sorrow, sun without rain, but He did promise strength for the day, comfort for the tears, and light for the way.
Dear Larry,
The day we met was a pivotal point in my life, as I am sure the majority of your introductions are. I am generally not a crier. I tried very hard to hide my tears in a stairwell here at NMRH after visiting my Dad on CVU after a AAA repair. As I look back, even though at that point nothing was seemingly awry, the wheels of his fate were in motion, somehow I felt the wrongness of it all and God sent me you. Your voice from above (literally) on those stairs that day was symbolic. You truly are a conduit of our Lord, that moment is testimony.
You met me in the ICU that very same night when Dad aspirated. I had no fear for him that night, or in days to come. You were there throughout his journey to his recovery this past 6 months. All the sedation/intubation, tubes, surgeries, moments of anxiety and questioning. You never failed to ask how he was doing, how my family was doing…how I was doing. Your impact on my life, my Mon’s life and my Dad’s life will forever resonate in our remaining years.
I ponder at times, more so since working here at NMRH, why some and not others? I have always believed God has his plan and his players. Its not up to us to figure out that plan or the players but to be aware of the pronounced events of our lives, what comes humanly and spiritually natural to us at those moments and to accept the presence of those who cross our paths at those moments. Your presence in my life at that time gave me the strength to walk into ICU everyday, to talk to my Dad even though he was not conscious and to move through his trials by his side; holding that strength for him when he could not. Holding that strength for my Mother when she could not. I found acceptance made a difference, created a natural path, after all that’s life, right? I heard you that day. I heard your words, your sincerity, compassion and kindness. You set the tone…I was listening.
There is such a selfishness that is overwhelming at the moment of possible loss or the loss of someone we love. No matter if they are 86 or 2 minutes old. Despite the fact that death is a part of life there are times when there is no consolation for the emptiness it brings. It seems there is nothing that can fill the void. These are the times that hone our skills to love and be loved. The emptiness left in our hearts, in our souls, we should fill with that love and we should share it as often as possible. Your are the epitome of this love. I am so grateful you were in the stairwell that day. I am so grateful you met me in ICU that night. I am grateful for the love you have for the people you meet here at NMRH at their weakest moments and the love you carry for those you have yet to meet.
If ever you doubt yourself, please start at the top and read this again!.
Thank you for changing my life, Larry.
