Yesterday was Gold. The whole day was Gold. We rested and took a deep breath. The magic milk flowed. I spoke to nobody new and no choices were demanded of me. I had long draughts of solitude - balm to my introverted spirit. Simply getting on the lift and not having to fight a crush made the day feel like it had more oxygen. Even so, I would not call it easy. You develop a kind of bond with a mother who you share this experience with. Sitting together, breast bared, in the expressing room. You are thrown into an intimacy of spirit with people whose name you can't quite remember but whose child's diagnosis you are fully conversant with due to those moments of late night expressing. So to shout for joy in the hallway seems so wrong when down the hall an alarm is going off or behind the curtain is a quiet sobbing or the red rimmed, downcast eyes silently beg you not to ask "how's he going today?". And every time she sighs, I hold my breath. Because in this world, nothing Gold can stay. Even if her condition continues to improve, tomorrow I will be plunged again into learning cardio care plans, trying to teach my girl to drink direct, learning how to hold her better, planning for the next step, working out how to deal with her needs once we are home, creating contacts and support back in Tassie. This is a marathon and yesterday was a moment when the sun was shining, the birds were singing and I could enjoy the run. Tomorrow my breath may come in fits and starts, my legs may burn and my eyes may sting where the sweat drips down.
Because in this world, nothing Gold can stay.
Nothing Gold Can Stay
Robert Frost
Nature's first green is gold,
Her hardest hue to hold.
Her early leaf's a flower;
But only so an hour.
Then leaf subsides to leaf.
So Eden sank to grief,
So dawn goes down to day.
Nothing gold can stay.
Thank you friends for loving me like Jesus
2 comments:
I actually thought of that very poem last night... but I didn't want to draw your attention in that direction. Even if tomorrow brings no gold, there will be other gold moments. And those are the moments we live for! :)
Being a realist means I grasp the gold harder because I understand how rare it is. Me calling yesterday "gold" came from this poem. I drink deep when it is here. Starting with a realistic picture or worst case scenario means I am more often pleasantly surprised. Miracles will happen for my girl. She will be whole and healthy and complete. But it isn't my timing. It may be tomorrow, it may be when Jesus comes again. We will see. In the meantime I will grasp the gold when it is here.
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