A simple connection
Mid December 2007
I sent this memory recently in a letter to a friend. I’d never shared it before with anyone; too precious and complicated. Just realized it might help others as well and the girl would wish her story to be known…
On a beautiful summer day a neighbor’s granddaughter of nine wandered into our yard with her cousin as she occasionally did as I tended my flowers, chatting about growing up. Wistful, she outlined an ordinary dream she knew was, for her, impossible.
Within months she had me called to the hospital. The transition from childhood to adolescence was too much with the congenital ‘hole’ in her heart; her organs were failing.
In ICU the frantic mother spoke as if her daughter were not there, alternately outlining in loud, graphic detail the funeral arrangements she had made, flowers and casket already ordered, and insisting the ‘miracles of modern medicine’ would turn things around.
The mother’s fear of death- she was visibly repelled by its appearance in her daughter- overwhelmed her love for her child at this crucial time.
A nurse finally managed to step aside with her for a few minutes. The girl and I had been communicating vividly with our eyes and faces the entire time. She was terrified of the death she felt creeping over her, desperately lonely amid a swarm of people. I helped her as much as one could amid the medical chaos. As pained tension melted from her exhausted body and fear retreated to a manageable level, her face softened, her breath eased.
Too weak for more than a few labored words, she let me know my unconditional love and fearless, complete acceptance despite her circumstances was a necessary comfort. Her eyes never left mine; she insisted on my touch when I had to leave ICU.
Her last wish was to know that even as she was dying someone loved her, was not afraid to touch her, was willing to hold her close. That she was more important than the death claiming her. That she was not walking alone into the dark, forgotten.
I’d thought I was a casual figure in her life. I was astounded that a hug, a smile, can be such a gift.
It is never too late. Never waste any moment, any opportunity…
Or let fear divide you from love.
[Edit: I shared this story with my Tuesday classes. I apologize for evoking your tears, honored by your understanding. Sharing suffering too can be a great gift…]