life and death
This weekend was, well, it's hard to describe this past weekend. I was betwixt and between this weekend. It was both dark and light, sadness and happiness. It was a time of mourning and a time of celebration. I went from one extreme to another - a place where there were no smiles to a place full of them. Let me explain.
On Saturday morning I went to an eleven-year-old's funeral. This girl was part of the Manhattan Church that supports the work I do in Brooklyn. But my family got to know this girl and her family in the PICU of Children's Hospital. This girl had a heart transplant this summer but her body never fully accepted the heart. Last week she was on ECMO - the machine Ira was on for the first eight days of his life. She didn't make it. The funeral was hard to attend. The sorrow was heavy.
On Sunday, the NICU of Children's Hospital had its annual reunion. This time last year Ira was in the NICU and so this was our first reunion to attend. It was magical. To see nurses and doctors who took care of Ira, to see other mothers and fathers, to witness the growth of other children - it was inspiring. We weren't the only ones carrying around tanks of oxygen and the like. There were others. And on the faces of those parents was a shared look of exhaustion coupled with a look of "we've made it this far!" The neonatologists shared the same sentiment - this day is by far their favorite day of the year. And to see nurses in street clothes who came to the hospital for just this event spoke volumes. Joy was in the air.
I'm still reeling from the emotional roller coaster this Monday morning. I'm still trying to sort out the events and the emotions and the thoughts but one thing I was reminded of as I walked away from both the funeral and the reunion - this life we're living is fragile. There are no guarantees concerning today, tomorrow, next week or next year. What I have is this moment. I've got right now. So what am I gonna do with it?
-
On Saturday morning I went to an eleven-year-old's funeral. This girl was part of the Manhattan Church that supports the work I do in Brooklyn. But my family got to know this girl and her family in the PICU of Children's Hospital. This girl had a heart transplant this summer but her body never fully accepted the heart. Last week she was on ECMO - the machine Ira was on for the first eight days of his life. She didn't make it. The funeral was hard to attend. The sorrow was heavy.
On Sunday, the NICU of Children's Hospital had its annual reunion. This time last year Ira was in the NICU and so this was our first reunion to attend. It was magical. To see nurses and doctors who took care of Ira, to see other mothers and fathers, to witness the growth of other children - it was inspiring. We weren't the only ones carrying around tanks of oxygen and the like. There were others. And on the faces of those parents was a shared look of exhaustion coupled with a look of "we've made it this far!" The neonatologists shared the same sentiment - this day is by far their favorite day of the year. And to see nurses in street clothes who came to the hospital for just this event spoke volumes. Joy was in the air.
I'm still reeling from the emotional roller coaster this Monday morning. I'm still trying to sort out the events and the emotions and the thoughts but one thing I was reminded of as I walked away from both the funeral and the reunion - this life we're living is fragile. There are no guarantees concerning today, tomorrow, next week or next year. What I have is this moment. I've got right now. So what am I gonna do with it?
-
posted by jch at
9:57 AM
2 Comments:
My heart goes out to little Jackie's family. I remember her mother coming to visit Ira once and expressing how much she wished she had the support of family as much as Ira has had. So I know this Momma is absolutely devastated. Please give my love to her mother.
Glo
I often find myself so struck by your posts, Joe, that I have no idea how to respond... other than to simply want to respond. Offering my thoughts to people who have lived through so much kinda feels presumptuous, not to mention like throwing a match on a fire since I'm sure you get everyone's opinions on a daily basis.
But, to answer your closing question, in all seriousness, I find that family, friends and pizza make for a pretty good evening. Throw in some Yahtzee or Twister, forget about it. :)
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