The Greatest.....

    I don't know.

    That is a big statement. I like to think that writing things on my calendar means something. I like to believe that of course we will be at an annual family get together.

    I like to write classes on my calendar and believe that my daughters will be able to go to them.

    Let's face it.

    A calendar item is a luxury item right now.  I open my calendar and look at it. I have never ever had such a blank calendar. I have never seen such empty space.

    Just seeing the empty space is a reminder that I am afraid. Yes, I know that no matter what happens, that we will get through this. Sometimes I actually believe this also.

    I read and re read my favorite passage of the bible. It is simple. It is the greatest commandment. It usually gives me such comfort. Nothing else matters.

    It doesn't really matter that I can only accomplish a limited amount of tasks while running back and forth to the hospital, fielding phone calls and answering the questions of my children.

    It really does not matter that there were three dirty dishes left in the sink right after the dishwasher was started.

    I like to believe that almost everything has a purpose.  We have been through such tragedies and have found the joy and humor later.

    And then that nagging darkness enters. What about my youngest daughter?  Why did she have to suffer so?  When we were waiting to see if she would live, I told myself that someday I would be able to comfort another mom in that situation.

    Yet again, I know nothing.

    I have spoken to moms who have admitted their child to the hospital with meningitis. I immediately flash back to my daughter. She was six months old and was admitted with meningitis, encephalitis and days later was diagnosed with pertussis.  The hospital created an isolation room for us on the surgical floor and every day an army of doctors paraded in to check her. Every day I asked the same question, "When will my baby wake up?" and every day their reply, "Mrs. P, we do not know IF your daughter will wake up."

    It's still chilling.

    I know that another six month old baby can be admitted to the hospital today with any one of those conditions and not survive. They could give the next child the exact same medications and it might not work.

    Sometimes, there is no comfort to be given. I also remember when they told me, "We don't think she is in pain right now."

    They didn't know.

    The darkness in my mind reminds me: We never really know.

    I lived unaware of a very serious congenital heart condition because of one simple fact. I had no idea that what I was feeling was different than what any of you feel. I have never been inside of your body.

     This is where I have difficulty. I actually believe that if I try to imagine myself in another person's position, that I will be more understanding.

    And then I remember my husband.

     My husband and I often give each other the look. The look that says, "I have no idea what planet you are from."

     I can no more imagine eating bar b que and bacon every day than he can imagine being vegetarian. 

     If he looks at my calendar, you can see the anxiety rise in his eyes. He likes to only look at one day. Looking ahead overwhelms him.  Consequently, he does not find any joy in preparing ahead.  He is the guy who always shows up without something he needed. He is okay with that; I am not.

     I look at my normal calendar and it gives me comfort. Yes, I have the cooler ready for the weekend trip to ______.  Oh, I need to pick up a pork roast for the dinner with ______.   I think all of the supplies were included for this class, but I will call ahead to be sure. I should double check the emergency kit, it looks like we have storms coming in this week. We have a lot going on this week, I think I will have soup and salads ready for quick meals.

     I feel a sense of accomplishment with each preparation. I feel relaxed. I feel safe.

    I look at my empty calendar and it simply reminds me that I don't know what to do.

     I don't know what to buy at the grocery store tomorrow. I don't know which day we will go to the library, or even if we will go to the library.

    I have closed the calendar for now. I still do not know what to write on my grocery list. 

    This not knowing is going to go on for more than a week. This triple bypass is consuming me and I do not know how to take my life back. The nasty darkness reminds me that I am weak because I find so much comfort in my calendar.

     The greatest commandment. It's about love. Really, when you have no poverty, no wealth, no greed, no video games, no television and no internet, what do you have?  If you take everything away, what is left?

     On my deathbed, when I am unable to eat, speak or breathe, what do you suppose will matter? Do you think I will be bothered by the price of gas? Will it really matter who wants my china?  No... Love.  That is all that really matters.

     Tonight, as we continue to prepare for this surgery, I am trying so hard to move away from the fears and walk towards the love.