Thursday, September 23, 2010

I held him.

Disclaimer: Sometimes my job is unbearably sad. This was one of those times.

After the crowd dispersed and the room was still, I held him.

After the monitors were turned off and the bright lights dimmed, I held him.

After the controlled chaos turned to silence, I held him.

After I shared tears over the phone with a mother who couldn't be there, I held him.

After I helped to bathe and swaddle him, then make footprints of his tiny hands and feet, I held him.

After we prayed around his bedside - for him, for his family, for ourselves - I held him.

I held him in a rocking chair, and as we rocked together I stroked his downy hair and sang to him.

He was not alone.

I held him.