Thoughts on a Very Long Day

We had over 5 inches of rain last night, which made waking up this morning seem gray and dreary. Melanie and Casi's roof leaked. Traffic to the hospital this morning was bumper to bumper all the way there. The hospital parking garage was full, except up on the roof, no protection from the weather up there. Mei-Lings last feeding was at 2 am, her surgery didn't happen until after 11 am. A long time for a 4 month old to go with no feedings. The surgery waiting room was filled to overflowing with people with stressed faces, worry on their brows and concern in their voices as they answered cell phone calls from worried friends and family. The tension in the room was tangible, fear on many faces. Yawns and sighs, all around us. The recovery room full of crying babies, whimpering children and parents strained from not knowing how to remove the pain from their children. They found cancer in the baby next to us, another baby could not be consoled for hours, in another the uneven beeps on a heart monitor sounded like a UFO taking off into space. There was not one corner of the place where pain was not present in some form. Mei-Ling smiled, dozed off, whimpered and cried to be fed. Like a nagging toothache that you keep putting your tongue to and make hurt a bit, we kept thinking about the news of another problem in this sweet tiny one. More abnormalities, you wonder why. Then she smiles and you forget. The baby next to us cannot be fed, he cries for hours. We stay in the recovery room waiting for a bed in the surgical ward to open up. The baby next to us cries in the arms of parents so young that they could be patients at this children's hospital. The fathers upper lip, just a bit a peach fuzz, not even a man yet. But, with all that around us and my eyes fixed on my daughter and her baby, their bond so strong, so filled with love, I wish it was different for them. Casi at work, his heart with his young wife and tiny baby. He calls often. With all that has gone on, everyone still feels blessed. A sweet baby fills our hearts with joy beyond words. There is more good then bad, and more hope than despair. More joy than sorrow. More question than answers but peace with that right now. I drive home by myself, the long road before me, the sky filling with the colors of the setting sun, lavender, pink, blue and a light shade of turquoise, the very colors the children's hospital is decorated with. The sunset fills me with peace, the beauty beyond words, I wonder if the folks planning the hospitals interior had seen just such a sky and knew the peaceful feelings it would bring to so many aching hearts and yes, all the hopeful parents. By the time I got home, my head was aching. Lots of calls to make, loved ones wanting updates. My sister just out of the hospital today too.
Walking outside in the silence of the evening, I remembered why we have lived simply for so long. It's like a living, moving breathing meditation, this simple life. The joy of working with our hands, the need to be outside and in a real sense, move outside our own selves and see, feel and smell the beauty of nature. It pushes you to grow daily, even when you would rather just sit and do nothing. There is no option to do nothing. We have walked this soil for soon to be 16 years, and lived this way before we moved here. The same journey for decades, yet no day the same. Each day, new and filled with amazing joy. Today a new day too, a hard day yes, but one that I could use the strength gained by the life we have lived for so long and draw from. Life is profoundly full, wonderfully filled with love and the strength to go through very long days like today.