Little did I know that the next day after finishing Don't Go Where I Can't Follow a loved one would enter the hospital. By the time I would arrive, the drawing of all the connections on page #74 was my reality (though I was spared 4 of the 9 attachments). Prior to this time, I could not have described the feeling of helplessness and exhaustion that comes with sitting bedside. I actually don't know that I could now, but the experience made me appreciate the book even more, and I have given considerable thought the last two weeks of the simple beauty of holding another's hand.
I had downloaded a few books in anticipation of a scheduled trip that had to be canceled. During my visit, I started The Fault in Our Stars, not remembering the topic, and then about 30 pages in decided 1) it's not a good idea to read a story about life and cancer back to back and 2) if you need a good cry from your hold-it-together-hospital-day at night, read a story about life and cancer back to back.
But it's unfair to say the books can be lumped into three words "life and cancer". There is an abundance of beauty around us and sometimes it takes a measure of pain to see more of it. One of my favorite excerpts from The Fault in Our Stars was: "We made the story funny. You have a choice in this world, I believe, about how to tell sad stories, and we made the funny choice."
If you asked me about my holiday, I would probably tell you about the crazy ambulance ride with the driver complaining about bad brakes while we listened to Black Sabbath or the nurse who got a sub for the IV because the last time she left a pool of blood in the patient's lap. [I told her it was good she knew her strengths.]
Despite these moments of time standing still, life goes on and there's a weird sort of funny amazement in it. To that end, here's to a year of discovering beauty and gratitude in unexpected places.
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