"Upsetting the "normal" while creating the beautiful." Annette Kruschek |
Day 11 in the hospital. 11 days that I have walked up and down the same hallway witnessing hope, despair, sadness and joy. The hallway that leads to rooms of children who didn't choose to be here but ultimately have taken residence in a place that shouldn't be called their home.
As I sit here this evening I admittedly will say I am tired. I have forgotten what it feels like to breathe in the afternoon air, eat dinner with all of my children, sit in my home and frankly, just stare at the "mess" that would surround me on a daily basis. The past 11 days have been spent hearing buzz words; "02 reading, morphine, drain tubes, x-ray, OT, PT..." I sit here this evening and look at the past 11 days and through my tired eyes I immediately get a picture of "signs" that God sprinkled along the way to carry me to this point. These "signs" reminded me that God is near. God is working everything out for the good. God takes the broken and makes it beautiful again. My first sign that was sprinkled along the path started on day 1, (surgery day for Lewis). God appeared through burnt toast. Yup, you saw that correctly... burnt toast! It happened after Dan and I left the surgical floor. There is a surreal feeling you get after kissing your child and passing him off to the medical team. Dan and I walked to the cafeteria to get some coffee. No words were shared but we knew what each other was feeling at that moment. The world suddenly becomes small. Almost tunnel like. You see people but not really. You hear noises but not. Surreal and small is how I would describe my world at that moment. Okay, back to the burnt toast. While pouring my coffee I exhaled and whispered, "Awe Dad, I wish you were here right now." I wanted my Dad to hold me up and carry me through something so big. Little did I know he already was because I didn't even get the creamer poured into my coffee when I smelled it... burnt toast. This would mean nothing to the average person but to me, at that moment I KNEW it was my Dad. You see, my Dad had a unique pallet. It wasn't until I was a young adult that my Dad would belly up to the breakfast table with a slice of burnt toast and a dill pickle with his coffee. It was during these times that we would sit together and just chat. My kids were little at the time, so while they made a mess of my parent's house my Dad and I would share some one on one time together. Smelling the pungent aroma of burnt toast brought me right back to that kitchen table. I actually felt like I could see and hear his voice while putting my creaming in my coffee. I knew God had planned that to give me the strength I needed to carry me through the hours of surgery that were awaiting Dan and I. The second sign that was sprinkled along my path was a red balloon. Day 9 of being in the hospital. Day 9 was the day our sweet Lewis needed prayers. He was getting a drain tube put back in. His fluids and food were taken away due to the procedure and my boy was D-O-N-E with a capital D! He was sick and tired of the bed but needed to lay still due to the medication. I was almost at the breaking point of tears when something beautiful happened. I reached into my pocket and felt something unusual. I pulled it out and glanced down to find a red balloon in my palm. I instantly knew where this red balloon came from. The last time I wore this particular shirt was when I went on my advocacy trip to China. It was that trip, this past October that I met Lewis for the first time. This red balloon was leftover from the balloons I had used to play with the children that I had met in his orphanage. It was a balloon that helped bring joy to the faces of orphans. It was a balloon that created friendships. This red balloon was my reminder that I had it in me to bring a smile out of a child who was sad. This red balloon reminded me of how far Lewis had come since the timid little boy I met in China. This red balloon was a sign of how God uses the littlest item to help create the biggest impression. At that moment I blew up the balloon and did what any Mom in desperation would do... I let the air out smack dab in his face. And there it was... A SMILE. The red balloon deep within my pocket got the job done. Thank you God. The last sign happened just this evening. The nurse told me I needed to go for a walk. Hours in the same little room can tend to play tricks on your mind. I think she was noticing something I wasn't even aware of. I needed a moment. A moment to walk and think. That is when it happened. I began walking around the grounds of the hospital. My legs needed the exercise but my mind needed a break. I found a park bench and just sat. As I sat and stared at the birds flying over a pond I exhaled. I took in a deep breath and exhaled as to the enormity of what had just happened over the past 11 days. Two children. Two siblings. Two open heart surgeries. Two lives who are now recovering. Two lives who now have SO much hope. It was at that moment that I turned over my phone and found a little smudge of pink nail polish. I smiled because that nail polish was what I had just put on Clara's fingers earlier today. That little smudge reminded me that my little girl who continues to fight in the hospital will come home to be with her brother. Our family will be together again. My messy house will be waiting for me. The afternoon air will be there when I hold her hand and she walks out the hospital doors. Life is beautiful. Even through the tired, the hurting, the crying, the scary... life is beautiful. I spent countless hours as a child in a hospital watching my Dad fight to survive from a terrible car accident. I was afraid to death of hospitals but I continued to go with my Mom every day because that is what you do when you want to be with your parents. I told myself I would never want to go through that time again. I prayed it would never happen. And then this... God gifted Dan and I two children who are medically challenged. Two children who on a scale from one to ten with heart conditions are considered at the high end. God gave me exactly what I was afraid of. God knew all along that he was preparing my heart for two children who would need a Mother to fight like a bulldog for them. God doesn't always give you what you want; he gives you what he knows you can handle. He knows you better than you know yourself. So please, coming from a normal Mom who messes up daily... let God be your guide. When I laid my life down and let God make choices that is when I started living. I will be the first to tell you, it isn't easy. Easy living is for the birds. Don't coast through life. Face your fears. Look it directly in the eye and ask yourself what are you really afraid of. The next time you experience a "sign" try to determine what God is telling you. It might not be what you want to hear but I am certain it is what he wants you to hear. Life is truly beautiful. Live your life like you really mean it!
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AuthorI am a proud Mother to eight children and a wife to my very best friend. I work hard, play hard and love until it hurts. Archives
January 2023
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