Front-line workers

Eleven years ago, I was in the ICU for eight days on a ventilator as a result of H1N1.  The day I was supposed to go home, I instead went into lung failure. I woke up in the I.C.U., drugged and afraid, seeing family in and out of my induced coma. It was petrifying, life-challenging and faith-affirming.  I have never been so afraid.

At the time, I had very long hair, and I had been in the hospital for over a week.  I felt like a grease ball, and despite the pain my body exuded, it was the disgusting feel of being less than human that overwhelmed me.  I was greasy, dirty and bound to a bed with a tube in my lungs breathing for me. I had no power over my self-care.

On the third day of my stay in the I.C.U., my nurse came in with a plastic bag, shampoo and some rubber bands.  She told me she was going to wash my hair.  It was like an answer to my prayers.  I was going to feel human again.  Very carefully, she used a hose from the sink to wet my long, thick tresses over the protection of a plastic bag.  Her fingers massaged my head.  Her words soothed me not to worry about the mess.  The tenderness was enough to bring tears to my eyes.

Once she washed and rinsed my hair over the bag, she put it in a ponytail. I felt like a woman again, instead of just a specimen. I.C.U. nurses are personal and exceptional.  They commit themselves to you while you stay in their care, and it is as though you are the only person that matters.  I do not remember the name of the nurse, and her face lives on in my memory.  Her gentle touch, her love, her consideration; all things that changed my mentality during a frightening, fragile time.

We are in the midst of a pandemic where family can't be with their families while they suffer and sometimes die.  These nurses are the saints that transition the suffering from this Earthly pain to a greater existence.  Had I not survived,  that hair washing would have been one of the most precious moments of my life. The compassion, the love, the consideration... nurses are the angels among us.

I have never forgotten the experience.  I WILL never forget the experience.  Do not forget the women and men on the front lines, helping some live, and holding hands when there is no hope.  It is all precious.  There is no doubt, love comes in many forms. It is coming tenfold in the reality we face now.  Don't ever forget.  Don't ever stop your gratitude.  My hair, clean as it may be, is never as preciously clean as that day in the I.C.U.  May those who must face that reality in the I.C.U. know such warmth.  It is a fire that continues to blaze within; with love, with gratitude, with amazement.

Easter 2020

I live down the street from a beautiful Catholic church.  Most Sundays, you can't find a parking place anywhere in the neighborhood.  Yet, on this most sacred of Christian holidays, the street is quiet.  There aren't huge families flocking into the church, there aren't police trafficking the mass of cars, and the church bells seem to echo in the silence of the day.  And that is what makes this a sacred day for me.

I am extremely spiritual, I believe in God, and my faith is what drives my life.  The remaining details of my religious profile are personal.  This spring, I feel that God has put us all in a proverbial time-out.  It is a time to simplify, reflect and evolve.  What comes A.V.- After the Vid- is yet to be determined.  Each one of us has a role to play in what will become of our country, our planet, our future.  Without the silence that surrounds me, I'm not sure I would ever have slowed down enough to truly contemplate these issues.  These thoughts are MOST important to reflect upon, and I am grateful today for these moments to truly slow down and decide if I'm going to be part of the status quo or part of an evolution, even if that means returning to a simpler way of life.

In this day and age, our society tends to surround ourselves with stuff.  What I'm realizing the more time in the silence of the times is that stuff is noisy.  It can easily block out what our hearts and spirits are trying to say.  This afternoon, I'm full of the pure love and joy of each moment.  Instead of being busy, I'm relishing in the sounds of my angels talking through my mom's wind chimes.  I'm listening to birds chirp as I look out my window to the bell tower at the church.  I'm enjoying the silence.

No matter what you believe, this can be a sacred day.  It can be a day of hope and renewal.  It can be a day of rebirth and perseverance.  The sounds of silence are a powerful instrument in figuring out who we are and who we want to be.  May you find serenity in knowing that the reflections of your heart can be the most powerful in the face of overwhelming uncertainty and fear.  My Nana always told me that there can't be peace on Earth until you are at peace with yourself.  Her voice in the wind chimes affirm that lesson even in her absence.

Dedicated to my Nana

An overwhelming source of love and strength ...