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.
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7 comments:
It IS unbearably sad. You did an amazing thing by holding him. You are really, really good at what you do and you make the world brighter during the saddest of times.
All our love to you, beautiful Fibby.
You are a gift to those you hold.
You are the salt of the earth Phoebe.
There are no words. I just wish we lived closer to you.
You do such important work, and I get the sense that you're really, truly, exceptional at it.
oh fibby, I'm so sorry I was in Maine and NYC this week. It sounds like you needed an Ivy night. Glad I get to give you a hug tomorrow.
You are an amazing, amazing soul that is so much stronger than any others I've ever seen. My mother says that one of the greatest gifts God gives is not those He chooses to be there when life ends, but when a soul goes Home. It's such an intimate moment and you were there to make sure it was filled with warmth and purpose. I know those moments will stay with you forever your days but hopefully so will the light you lead those days with.
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