Life and Death in Temple

Yesterday my wife and I drove to the hospital to visit a couple of friends whose new- born baby boy is suffering from an intestinal blockage. Initially, there was quite a bit of concern for the little guy, but to everyone's relief, things are looking much better. We concluded our visit and headed back to the elevators to leave. That is when we witnessed something we are not likely to forget.

As we waited for the elevator, my wife and I noticed a large wheelchair-bound man. He seemed to be quietly crying. He sat there alone near the nurse's station for Labor and Delivery and I wondered what was wrong. Though we did not exchange any words, I knew my wife had noticed him as well.

Where was that elevator?

As we waited, an older lady came out of the swinging doors separating the old man from the delivery rooms. The lady came out talking a hundred miles an hour about the birth she had just witnessed. I assume it was this couple's daughter that had just become a mom though that was never expressly stated.

"The baby is beautiful and looks just like her", she said.

"Momma", the old man said quietly while looking down.

The old lady seemed not to hear him or notice his tears or cracking voice and continued to talk excitedly.

"He's tow headed and strong", she continued rapidly.

The old man tried to interject again. "Momma."

Again, she did not seem to hear him but continued to relay the details of the miraculous event she had just witnessed.

"She did great! You would have been so proud of her. She's worn out now but is doing fine", she gushed.

This time, with more force, the old man got her attention. "Momma!"

It was obvious something was wrong. My wife and I both began to feel a bit uncomfortable. Where was that stupid elevator? I pushed the button again.

We were not able to hear the next portion of the conversation as the old man relayed his news to his wife quietly. We averted our eyes to give the couple a semblance of privacy though we were only a few feet apart. It was only when the old lady nearly shouted at the poor old man that we learned what had transpired.

"You mean to tell me he killed himself? My brother has killed himself? Today of all days?" She began to weep.

Where was that stupid elevator?

The old man tried to comfort her but she would have none of it. She turned away from him and came toward my wife and me. She stopped directly in front of us and pushed the same elevator button I had been pushing. The elevator did not cooperate with her either, however. She put her head against the wall and began to cry. I wanted to do something but merely stood frozen and stared at the motionless elevator doors. I could tell my wife wanted to reach out to her. I think she may have taken a small step toward the lady but about that time the old man wheeled closer and again tried to offer some comfort.

"Momma, let me hold you", he implored.

She turned away from him again and walked back the way she had come and left him sitting there to cry alone in front of two total strangers. The misery of this couple was overpowering. Finally, one of the nurses who had been watching these events unfold stepped out from behind her station and took the old woman and her husband somewhere behind the swinging doors of Labor and Delivery. It was only after they disappeared from view that the elevator finally arrived and the doors opened. My wife and I rode silently down to the first floor pondering what we had seen and heard.

I have found it difficult to get this old couple out of my mind. I can't even imagine the mixed emotions this family must be enduring. I don't think I've ever seen pure joy turn to absolute misery so quickly. It was a terrible thing to witness. I ache for this family. What should be a joyous birthday every year will now be, at best, a bittersweet occasion. It was a reminder of how precious life is and how we should appreciate every minute we are given on this earth. Even more so, it was a reminder of how we should cherish our loved ones. After all, tomorrow is not promised to us.

My best...