Today is Mike's birthday. Today Mike turned 64. Today I visited Mike through the door and he barely looked up. I took him a milkshake, but he wasn't awake enough to even try it. It was a sad sort of birthday.
Thankfully, my friend Nancy went with me which helped to keep the blues away. We drove 75 minutes, handed off his card, new socks, and milkshake, looked at him through the door for a few minutes, spoke with the nurse practitioner (or is she a PA?) and left. Mike was very quiet today so they are keeping an eye on him. That was it. There's not much to say.
Yet, a sweet moment occurred when a precious woman rolled down the hall in her wheelchair, rolled right beside Mike and gently asked "Aren't you going to wake up? Look." We exchanged glances through the door, she tried a couple more times, and I mouthed "Thank you. It's OK." Nancy and I waved and smiled at her and turned to leave. That little exchange made the entire visit better. The kindness of a stranger trying to help us have a little connection with a door in-between us.
On my other blog www.reflectionsbythepond.com I am sharing thoughts from Philippians 4. Currently I am working on one about rejoicing always. Today I didn't feel much like rejoicing and I don't think Paul meant that I should rejoice that my husband is confined to a wheelchair and can't talk to me, but that there is always a reason for a Christian to rejoice in the Lord. It's a conscience decision, a shift in focus. I can rejoice because I know that God has a purpose for this and I know I can trust Him, I can rejoice that I am a child of God, I can rejoice that Mike's and my names are written in the Book of Life, I can rejoice knowing that this life is temporary, I can rejoice that God provided my friend, Nancy, to be with me today and ease the sadness, I can rejoice that Mike is so well taken care of, I can rejoice and remember how God made a way to get Mike into that facility. In the midst of rejoicing and giving thanks, it moves my focus from the sad to the blessings and, in that shift, the heaviness and sadness fall away and are replaced with gratitude and joy. It is not a giddy joy, it is a deep inner joy and peace. A lingering ache remains, because I am human and it does hurt, but it is not debilitating.