Sunday, July 24, 2011

Departure from the lighthearted...



Last week, one of my residents had to say goodbye to his 4 month old baby, after the unfathomably horrific experience of finding him unresponsive in his crib during a nap. My heart has broken for this family a thousand times over, and every time I come to the edge of asking myself what I would do in that situation, my entire being backs away from the thought as if even coming close to it is more painful than I can bear. I don' t think you recover from that kind of loss. Ever.


But it does, even if heartwrenchingly so, remind me to hug a little longer, be a little more patient, cherish every i-love-you, stop looking toward the next big thing and just take a second to treasure the moment. Even if that moment holds the exasperation incumbent to a nap-protesting, public tantrum-throwing, make-me-late-for-work-every-morning almost 3 year old. How insignificant and trivial are the exasperations of my day, when so abruptly put into perspective.




I used to throw around the term I love you. But I'm not sure that I had ever loved anyone yet, because I was years away from having a child of my own, and until you’ve done that you’re just guessing about love, gesturing toward it, assuming that it’s the right name for a feeling you’ve had. And I'm convinced that you can't love something that much without accepting the risk of equally magnanimous hurt. So my heart hurts for this family, and all I can offer is my prayers and a vow not to take my little one(s) for granted...


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