Sweet pumpkin rolls and dog ears August 22 2015, 1 Comment

August 21, 2014 - lifted this from my journal.  A year ago.  Just a little something sweet I came across as I continue to write out Bryer's end days.

Here I am. 1 year ago I was about to ride in an ambulance to NCH with Bryer…an admission that introduced seizures to the mix…a sick sick baby boy who was becoming sicker.  It began his final march to Heaven.  Tonight, I sit at NCH in 10HB room 35. Remy had some bleeding from her throat last night and this am from her tonsillectomy 15 days ago. They insisted we come to the ER.  We tried to avoid. They then admitted her for evaluation this evening. So here we are. Back at NCH.  The triggers of Bryer aren't as bad as the last time when we came for her surgery.  But, I had some waves earlier when I went to the cafe to get lunch for Justin and I.  It's so difficult to put into words. A familiar sensation that my body absorbs all over that cannot be evoked anyway else but to be in this place. Brief moments of this overtakes me and I feel like I will be heading back up to be with Bryer. But almost as quick as it comes on, it's gone again. No, it's Remy we are here for.  

And I am glad... and I am sad.  

Sigh.  Her and I went to the 6th floor this evening where they had a dog that was visiting patients.  We didn't do things like that when we were here with Bryer…obviously.  As I watched Rem pet this basset's ears, I gazed out the window overlooking the green space below…two young women sat on a bench.  I could see they were not employees.  

I imagined their conversation.  

You can only imagine, as you could never correctly guess the circumstances here.  And I was reminded of when I was one of those young women and my dear friend Amber came to bring me dinner from Mohawks down the street in German Village with a pumpkin roll for dessert.  We sat in the warmth, so stark from the chill of the hospital.  It felt amazing.  I could feel the breeze picking up loose, but greasy, pieces from my weary pony tail and swirling them around my face.  We talked and ate, and I breathed for a moment.  

I so enjoyed that pumpkin roll.  

It was a bit of decadence in a less than decadent circumstance.  It reminded me the change of seasons was upon us…something that can easily get lost within the four walls of NCH.  

I felt loved.  

And as quickly as I was sucked into that memory…long enough to feel the same uncertainty in the pit of my stomach... I was back in the current moment with Remy noticing the short chubbiness of this dog's legs and feet.  "Remy, do you think we could paint those toenails?" Sweet girl with her snaggle tooth smile, exuberantly says, "Yes! Rainbow colors!"  

Of course:)

There were two other patients there when we arrived, tween boys. One left shortly, but the other stayed and was accompanied by his grandpa and mother.  There were 3 other volunteers and the dog owner.  Remy didn't say one word, unless spoken too and only then prompted by me to be polite and answer yes or no's. She is painfully shy in those situations.  Everyone else was pretty talkative.  The boy's mother was talking about her son's accident. Something had fallen on his foot and broken 7 bones.  He'd been here for 1 week and already had 2 surgeries with another one tomorrow.  She was outspoken about her faith, and mentioned she'd include Remy in her prayers tonight.  The grandpa was talking about how many grandkids he's had admitted to NCH (4) and spoke of their various reasons. Then the boy's mother mentioned they'd lost their first grandchild here being 4 months premature. So now that made 2 babies in heaven, a grandchild and her own baby she'd miscarried at 14 weeks long ago.  Remy and I just sat there quietly…again she hadn't offered a word.  

There was a lull in the conversation and she says quietly, "We have a baby in heaven too."  

No one said anything.  They probably didn't know what to say.  You probably had to be there, but it was a very tender moment.  My heart was breaking with pride.  Proud of her confidence to say anything at all among this group of strangers and touched that she continues to remember and share her brother.  

Then the mother of the boy asks, "What was their name?"  Remy looks at me as if to get approval.  

And then she says his name, "Bryer."  And that was it.  She kept stroking the dog ears:)