At the intersections of hope, heart and healing

I was at the University of Michigan children’s hospital in Ann Arbor Tuesday afternoon. Kid 2 had to get an MRI done. He was having some weird head pains last week that much worse than your typical headache. While I’m confident that he’s a-okay, just being there weighed heavily on my mind.

There’s sick kids there. I hadn’t been by any rooms and seen any patients or anything like that. But my heart just absolutely breaks for the kids who are here. I would love to volunteer at a place like this, because I think it’s such a noble cause, I would like to do something like that just to help others; to give a bit of myself to something so important. At the same time, it would be an emotional meat-grinder for me. I would break out into tears just being there. As it was, I was fighting off tears when I first got to the hospital – at even the idea of being faced with the enormity of it all.

The Old Man’s Neighbors

I don’t think I’ve ever written about this, but The Old Man is buried in the military section of the cemetery he’s at. But right next to the military section is the children’s section. The way that the cemetery is configured, I cannot pull up to or pass by the military without passing the children’s area – either upon entering or leaving.

If you’ve ever seen children’s gravesites in most American cemeteries, you know that at least some of them are can be easily identified by the fact that they’ll have balloons, toys or some stuffed animals or “plushies” adorning the headstones.

The truth is, I cry more passing the children’s graves than I do at The Old Man’s graves. It’s not that I don’t miss The Old Man; but he did live a long happy and productive life. The kids buried just a few feet away from him didn’t. As a parent, I could not imagine having to bury one of my children. That’s something I would not wish upon my worst enemy. Spiritual people or people of faith will tell you that it’s all a part of some master plan; but I cannot image how it is.

Lucky

I am so beyond fortunate to have to perfectly healthy children. But I always wonder why. What am I so fortunate, when other people have to deal with this enormous burden? Some people call it being blessed – as if good things happen to them because they pray enough. I refuse to believe that; because there a lots of good people who have to deal with a sock or deceased child. Hell, NO ONE, deserves to have to go through that.

I have friends who’ve had very sick children. I know friends who’ve had to bury their children. I don’t know how they handle that. I would completely break emotionally and psychologically. What little faith and spirituality I have would be out to the ultimate test; one that don’t think it would pass. The only thing that would keep me going, I suppose, would be my remaining child. even I’m sitting here – thinking these thoughts, and writing about it – is emotionally exhausting.

Whenever I’m faced with the potentially big moments in my life, when I’m not sure if something is going to bring good news or bad news, I’ve learned to trust my instinct What does your heart tell you? is a question I ask myself. More often than not, my instincts have served me well.

Trusting my gut

I don’t believe that the MRI will find anything wrong with Kid 2. Even if the MRI “sees” something in his head, I know that Kid 2 will ultimately be okay. I can just sense it. That being said I can’t walk through the children’s hospital and wonder how many parents were as confident as I am. Likewise, I’m sure that lots of parents in that children’s wing of the cemetery thought the same thug about their little ones. In moments like that, all anybody had is their hope and their faith to cling to. I don’t k won’t that would be enough for me.

We should have the results of Kid 2’s MRI soon enough. I’m not sitting here dwelling on it, but it is most certainly on my mind.

Do something

Still, I feel like I have to do something I have to find some way to volunteer either my time, my resources or my energy to something like a pediatric hospital. I know that a lot of teachers will even do something as so simple as having g their students make greeting cards at the holidays for sick kids in the hospital. For years, I’ve wanted to find a cause for which I was willing to volunteer. This may be it.

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