Birth and death

The tenth was my birthday.
Even though a hospital was the last place I wanted to be, it was a good day. Rounds went well; nothing had really changed and the plan for the day was short and sweet. I shamelessly tell anyone who looks my way that it is my birthday. I figure: if they don't know, how can they wish me a happy birthday?

The weather was an amazing 80 degrees and bright and sunny; just the kind of weather to go driving and get out. Driving is my alone time. I can crank the radio with the windows down and just jam. I don't think, I don't worry, I just drive. The beeps and alarms of the hospital room disappear and are replaced with the sound of passing cars and the stereo bass. It's a calm feeling like no other. My wandering spirit leads me to the mall where I have lunch, shop, and treat myself to new tennis shoes. It may sound silly, but I love the shoes the nurses wear. They all sport such cute and colorful shoes that I just had to have a pair. I leave, wearing my new kicks, and head back to the McDonald house.

Apparently it hadn't been such a good day for everyone else. I hear from a father, who's daughter is in the hospital for being born with half a heart, that he just lost his son. His two year old back home had fallen down the stairs, broke his neck, and passed away. The news bring tears to my eyes. I immediately thank God we live in a single story home where the is no danger of my son falling down stairs. My heart breaks for this mans pain. While I'm on the porch listening to this man's story, I meet another family who's 12 year old daughter just found out she has lymphatic cancer. She is scheduled for chemo the next day. I then receive a phone call from a dear friend saying that her sister tried to commit suicide.
I realize then, in that moment, that the world is full of sad stories but I have never been this close to the people experiencing them. Here, I am surrounded by sad stories, broken hearts, and sick children. I have been lucky enough not to hear of them, until now. All in one day, so many tears. My birthday is a happy day for me, a day I can take for myself and be selfish and buy shoes and jewelry. But for others, it is the day their son died, the day their daughter had her first round of chemo, and they day a sister almost died. I thank God, as I listen to these stories, that my son is alive and breathing. Thank you God he made it to the hospital in time, thank you for a successful surgery. Thank you for a broken, but beating heart. 


mama to j and bean said...

What a beautiful and heartbreaking post. I'll hold my little ones a little bit closer and remember to appreciate all that I have.

Trissy said...

Definitely made me tear up on this one! It makes me wonder though...

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