While I was engaged in my duties at the local hospital overnight, I was suddenly thrust into the lives of two different families, each set of parents with a very sick child. The first child, an infant girl of about six months, died of complications of her illness within a couple of hours of arriving in the Emergency Room. The second child, also an infant girl, survived her illness, at least long enough to be whisked off into the early morning sky by a life flight helicopter.
I had a very small part in the events that took place, and I am sure that the families will not remember me, and that is fine. Mostly I was an observer. What I observed (and in small way felt) was the terrible sadness and pain at the loss of such a young child. Mother and father, some other adult relatives, and a young boy were all caught up in the terrible grief that only comes with losing a child. But all the people who had worked to save the child, and yes, even those of us who only played such minor parts in the attempt, were saddened to the point of tears when the doctor called life-saving efforts to a halt. For some reason beyond human comprehension (at least THIS human), this little angel was taken from its parents, from its sibling, its grandparents, and returned to that place where the Good Shepherd cares for little children such as these. The child's family left the hospital a short time later and went somewhere to be alone and grieve.
Meanwhile we, the day shift, did not have time to dry our tears before another little angel girl was brought in. This child was having trouble breathing and was in dire straits. The child's family was concerned, and with good reason. The little baby was hovering near death. As the medical staff went to work on this infant, AeroCare was called and responded a life flight to our hospital. By the time the chopper arrived, the infant was in stable condition. Again, for reasons known only to the Universe, this female child survived the short stay in the hospital and was in good shape as the helicopter lifted off the pad. The parents were upbeat as they drove away. They were spared the agony that the first family was only beginning to know.
Two little angels came to the hospital this morning. One angel returned to the Father. The other will receive medical care and, in all likelihood, will eventually return safely to her parents. As the excitement these crises generated began to fade away and things returned to "normal" in the Emergency Room, I had time to ponder the events of the past couple of hours. I had to wonder, once again, why one child was taken and the other left? Why did one child die and one live on? Why were one set of parents called to experience the worst pain parents can feel, while the other parents were given the joy of hearing that their daughter would live and would be reunited with them soon? Where was the fairness in this...this tale of two little angels?
I pondered these questions for the remainder of the morning, until I was relieved at end of my shift, nearly five hours later. As I thought about it, I realized I did not have anymore answers than I had before these traumatic events occurred. Not only did I have no answers, but I began to have the feeling that maybe there WERE no answers. Were one set of parents better than the other? Did some member of the family somehow "deserve" to lose this little baby? I thought of the our own little angel, Bryan, as the events brought his memory vividly before me. I recall now that years ago some of these same questions ran through my mind. What had we done? Why was our baby taken? The only comfort I had then was knowing that Jesus was holding Bryan and comforting him. The years have taken edge from the pain, but the memories are there still, and always will be.
As I have gotten older, I cannot say that I am wiser, especially given the events of the past year. I know I am not wiser because I know I am no closer to the answers to these questions than I was twenty-six years ago when Bryan was taken from us. And today, all these questions were laid bare as I helped prepare one baby to be carried to a funeral home and helped prepare another to be carried away on a helicopter. It was a tale of two angels, but the mystery was only made deeper today, the understanding was hidden as far away from me as the twilight is from the dawn.
In the end all I can do is pray for the comfort of one family; for the other, the recovery of their child, and the hope that they will treasure this child as a miracle for years to come.
I had a very small part in the events that took place, and I am sure that the families will not remember me, and that is fine. Mostly I was an observer. What I observed (and in small way felt) was the terrible sadness and pain at the loss of such a young child. Mother and father, some other adult relatives, and a young boy were all caught up in the terrible grief that only comes with losing a child. But all the people who had worked to save the child, and yes, even those of us who only played such minor parts in the attempt, were saddened to the point of tears when the doctor called life-saving efforts to a halt. For some reason beyond human comprehension (at least THIS human), this little angel was taken from its parents, from its sibling, its grandparents, and returned to that place where the Good Shepherd cares for little children such as these. The child's family left the hospital a short time later and went somewhere to be alone and grieve.
Meanwhile we, the day shift, did not have time to dry our tears before another little angel girl was brought in. This child was having trouble breathing and was in dire straits. The child's family was concerned, and with good reason. The little baby was hovering near death. As the medical staff went to work on this infant, AeroCare was called and responded a life flight to our hospital. By the time the chopper arrived, the infant was in stable condition. Again, for reasons known only to the Universe, this female child survived the short stay in the hospital and was in good shape as the helicopter lifted off the pad. The parents were upbeat as they drove away. They were spared the agony that the first family was only beginning to know.
Two little angels came to the hospital this morning. One angel returned to the Father. The other will receive medical care and, in all likelihood, will eventually return safely to her parents. As the excitement these crises generated began to fade away and things returned to "normal" in the Emergency Room, I had time to ponder the events of the past couple of hours. I had to wonder, once again, why one child was taken and the other left? Why did one child die and one live on? Why were one set of parents called to experience the worst pain parents can feel, while the other parents were given the joy of hearing that their daughter would live and would be reunited with them soon? Where was the fairness in this...this tale of two little angels?
I pondered these questions for the remainder of the morning, until I was relieved at end of my shift, nearly five hours later. As I thought about it, I realized I did not have anymore answers than I had before these traumatic events occurred. Not only did I have no answers, but I began to have the feeling that maybe there WERE no answers. Were one set of parents better than the other? Did some member of the family somehow "deserve" to lose this little baby? I thought of the our own little angel, Bryan, as the events brought his memory vividly before me. I recall now that years ago some of these same questions ran through my mind. What had we done? Why was our baby taken? The only comfort I had then was knowing that Jesus was holding Bryan and comforting him. The years have taken edge from the pain, but the memories are there still, and always will be.
As I have gotten older, I cannot say that I am wiser, especially given the events of the past year. I know I am not wiser because I know I am no closer to the answers to these questions than I was twenty-six years ago when Bryan was taken from us. And today, all these questions were laid bare as I helped prepare one baby to be carried to a funeral home and helped prepare another to be carried away on a helicopter. It was a tale of two angels, but the mystery was only made deeper today, the understanding was hidden as far away from me as the twilight is from the dawn.
In the end all I can do is pray for the comfort of one family; for the other, the recovery of their child, and the hope that they will treasure this child as a miracle for years to come.
No comments:
Post a Comment