Remember when parents used to say, “Stop crying or I’ll give you
something real to cry about?” A version of that happened in my life last week.
Between missing
my dad on his birthday September 4th, the looming end of summer and dwindling
beach time with family and friends, and saying goodbye to favorite summer
locals, I wallowed the days after Labor Day feeling downright sad.
And
then, at 8:39 a.m. on Friday morning, in the checkout line at the Acme, I got a
text that put things in perspective.
My
brother, hundreds of miles from home for his job, was on a stretcher, in an
ambulance, on his way to the hospital with symptoms that sounded alarmingly
like a heart-attack or stroke.
Talk
about something real to be sad about! My first reaction after getting off the
phone with my brother was to burst into tears. The next hours were tense and
scary until a battery of tests ruled out the most frightening diagnoses.
Thankfully, by later that day we were cautiously optimistic his symptoms were
temporary and treatable and the next day he was able to fly home.
After my
initial crying jag Friday morning, a few things kept me from completely melting
down. First, the minute I got home from the Acme, Jim glued himself to my side
and stayed there through every text and phone call. As we do in our family, my
siblings rallied, ready to do whatever was needed.
And then
there was the kindness of strangers. Two women, who didn’t know me and had just
met my brother the day before in the class he was teaching, went way above and
beyond. One helped me coordinate with his hotel, employer, and car rental
company, being my eyes and ears onsite, to ensure his belongings and company’s
equipment were secure. The other woman went to the hospital to be with him. She
called me as the emergency unfolded and assured me, as long as he needed
someone with him, she would not leave his side. It’s hard to describe the
comfort it brought knowing that during this medical emergency, he was not
alone.
True to
her word, she put her day on hold and sat by his side for hours, reassuring and
keeping our family updated. Eight hours later she finally went home, and then
checked in with him later that night and visited him again in the morning.
These
women were so caring and generous. In a similar situation, could I be that unselfish
with my time?
