The Healing, By Sandy Jones

The shock of events of the past 30 hours overwhelmed Jim all at once. His body felt numb, and while the world was moving along, he felt removed from it.

Jim and his wife, Connie, had just lost their beautiful four-month-old son. Preliminary diagnosis: SIDS, sudden infant death syndrome.

Thirty hours ago Jim had driven to the baby-sitter's home to pick up Joshua. It was a routine trip, like the one he made five days every week...until he arrived, and little Joshua could not be awakened from his nap. The next few hours were a blur. Wailing sirens, swift-moving paramedics, critical-care doctors and reassuring nurses, holding hands and praying. A decision to life-flight Joshua to Children's Hospital 60 miles away...but all in vain. Twelve hours later, the doctors had exhausted all attempts at revival. There was no brain activity. The decision was to turn off life-support. Little Joshua was gone. Yes, they wanted all of Joshua's usable organs to be readied for donation. That was not a difficult decision for Jim and Connie, a loving and giving couple.

The next morning dawned. More decisions and arrangements. Telephone calls and funeral plans. At one point Jim realized he needed a haircut, but being new to the community, he didn't have his own regular barber yet. Jim's brother volunteered to call his hairdresser and get Jim an appointment. The schedule was full, but after a few words of explanation, the salon owner said, "Just send him right over and we'll take care of him."

Jim was exhausted as he settled into the chair. He had had little sleep. He began to reflect on the past hours, trying desperately to make some sense of it all. Why had Joshua, their firstborn, the child they had waited so long for, been taken so soon...he had barely begun his life... The question kept coming, and the pain in Jim's heart just enveloped him. He thought about the words spoken by the hospital chaplain. "We don't fully understand what part we have in God's plan. Perhaps Joshua had already completed his mission on earth." Those words didn't ease the bitterness that was creeping in.

The hairdresser expressed her sympathy, and Jim found himself telling her all about the events of the last 30 hours. Somehow it helped to tell the story. Maybe if he told it enough times, he would gain some understanding.

As Jim mentioned the organ donations, he looked at his watch and remembered what was happening 60 miles away...where he had said good-bye to his beloved Joshua a few short hours earlier. "They are transplanting one of his heart valves right now."

The hairdresser stopped and stood motionless. Finally she spoke, but her voice quivered and it was only a whisper. "You're not going to believe this...but about an hour ago the customer sitting in this chair wanted me to hurry so she could get to Children's Hospital. She left here so full of joy...her prayers had been answered. Today her baby granddaughter is receiving a desperately needed transplant...a heart valve."

Jim's healing began.

-- Anonymous, September 01, 2001

Answers

Rhymes and Reasons, By Antionette Ishmael

As I sang to my newborn son, I contemplated my decision. The tuned soothed us both.

When I think about Patrick, my firstborn, I remember how difficult those first few months were. Whenever he got restless, I'd draw from my teaching days and sing a rhyme or two.

Patrick's first cry had been in late August – and so was the first day of school for my former students. I missed the cheerful faces of the schoolchildren and the musty smell of a classroom that had been closed up all summer. Had I made the right choice? Should I have continued teaching after having the baby? Would I lose contact with my teaching peers and fade into lost volumes of aging yearbooks?

As conflicted as I was, I knew seeing my young baby mature into a toddler and then a little boy was something I did not want to miss. On snowy mornings past, I'd be scraping my windshield before work. Now I was cuddling my son under warm blankets and watching the snow fall. An afternoon at the museum, or a visit to the library story hour, or a walk around the block was very special for both of us. While most of my focus was on mother-child activities, I also found time to sew and read, luxuries that were virtually nonexistent before. I enjoyed making Patrick's pumpkin costume for Halloween and felt proud of his Christmas stocking, with the sequins I had worked so hard to apply, hanging on the fireplace mantel.

Unfortunately, we at-home moms are often misunderstood. I am asked, "Why are you wasting your life and career staying at home?" My reply is simple: "I can always go back to teaching, but never to those wonderful days of motherhood." What a sad commentary on society when the most important job in the world must be defended. It has been six years since I made this decision. It is just as special to see two more stockings above our fireplace (yes, with sequins, too!) and the costume gallery I have created since that first October.

I walked near my sons' room last night and listened to Anthony corral his imaginary puppies and Dominic wail for attention. I started to enter to comfort my little one, only to be pleasantly surprised by my oldest son singing those same rhymes from my teaching days to calm his littlest brother.

As I leaned against the door, a new song filled my heart. It was then I realized I hadn't given up teaching at all!

-- Anonymous, September 01, 2001

I don't suppose there are paragraphs in those anywhere? LOL

-- Anonymous, September 01, 2001

Ah, there we go!

Good stories. Good lessons.

-- Anonymous, September 01, 2001

Now how did you get it to break up like that? I also have trouble with the lists.

-- Anonymous, September 01, 2001