What’s in a Name?

We were recently on our way to our daughter’s for a visit and passed the hospital where her first child was born.  Which took me down memory lane to the day I got the call.

It was a Friday afternoon and I’d just arrived home from work.  Daughter called and said they were on their way to the hospital.  A month early.  Which scared all of us. And it also meant they were going to the only hospital in a larger town because it has an NICU unit.

Hubby wasn’t home yet so I called him. He had obligations all weekend and didn’t know if he could get out of them. I had none.   I consider myself a pretty calm, even keel kind of person but I was fast unraveling.  I paced and fretted.  I decided I couldn’t wait.  I told hubby to catch up when and if he could.  I fed the cats, threw some clothes in the car, got the dog, and set off on my 300 mile drive.  Cool as a cucumber.  In boiling water.

I drove safely.  Well, I assume I did.  I got there.  It was dark or after 8:00 or whatever their rule was, when visitors must enter thru the ER. I told them I was there to be with my daughter who was giving birth to my grandson.  They told me to sign in and enter my daughter’s name. They took the clipboard and scrutinized it.  Then they returned.

“We have no patient here by that name.”  What???  I know my handwriting can be impossible to read but I really, really tried to be very neat.  “Could she be at a different hospital?”  Are you out of your mind??  There IS no other hospital!!

Keep calm I told myself.  Breath in, breath out.  Of course she’s at this hospital. These people are just nuts.    Let’s start at the beginning.  I looked at the clip board where I had signed in.  Oh……I kind of goofed.  I’d written my daughter’s maiden name. Of course, that’s easy to understand. She’s only been married for 5 years. These people must think I’m the one who’s nuts.    Please let me in!

They did.

The Heart of a Child

It was Easter weekend and we were visiting our daughter and her family.  Hubby and daughter were part of the praise service at church.  Son-in-law had other church responsibilities.  So I was in charge of the two grandkids (yes!)

As the final song was starting the congregation was invited to come toward the altar and kneel.  I scooped up 18 month old granddaughter and asked grandson, not yet 4, to come with us.  We walked up front where I knelt and the kids sat on the floor in front of me.  We began to sing Just as I am, I come empty to be filled. There is so much hurt and sorrow in this world and some of it is so very close.  I couldn’t control the tears.

A chorus or two into the song, grandson turned around and saw me crying.  He didn’t say anything. He just scooted back until he was tucked under my arm and I held him close.

The heart of a child.