His confusion was palpable.
The Calgary airport sign clearly indicated men’s washroom but I stood at the entrance, peaking in periodically. The stranger looked at the “man” sign directly in front of me, glanced over at the little yellow stick figure in a dress, back to me, back to the man; his urgency clearly battling his confusion.
I offered, “My mom is in there helping my dad.”
Utter relief…well, almost.
This scene ended a Christmas week that proved to be a rough one for our family as we rode the medical rollercoaster of tests, possible diagnoses, changed conclusions, more tests, and bedside hours waiting with my dad, and my mom. Thankfully, I am practiced—and in my element—with hospitals and uneventful hours, and feel grateful to God for the opportunity to support them.
Crisis seems to beget extremes in families – they fracture or pull together. I am thankful ours did the latter. We kept vigil, taking turns and providing care in ways unique to our personalities and ability. We sat by his bed, which he appreciated, but nothing calmed like having my mom at his elbow. I guess 54 years together breeds comfort.
So she stayed, from dawn to dark, adjusting his gown, raising his head, encouraging him to swallow, and yes, helping him go to the bathroom. Her unwavering care modelled committed love.
We rejoice and thank God that dad was well enough for him and mom to travel home on the 29th and that the doctor at Surrey Memorial hospital went above and beyond to set up further testing and referrals in Manitoba. So many acts of kindness; so much love in action.
God’s gracious provisions in human form.
And His presence.
Once again, I marvel at the peace He gives in trials and the strength He provides under duress. I’m not sure why I’m surprised as He’s consistent. Perhaps I am learning how I play a role in this peace process and more often choose to turn anxious thoughts to prayers in faith and future worries to reminders that God is in control, regardless of circumstances.
With love and gratitude,
In The Midst