Many pieces

Last night I cuddled with baby Ella in the waiting room of the CICU so her mom and dad could spend some time together with Will. I quietly sang a variety of my favorite Dolly Parton songs and hoped she would find one she preferred. She is such a good baby, there really is no need for pacifying her, but I couldn't help but notice how much she enjoyed "The Seeker" With tears rolling down my cheeks, her eyes followed my lips and it felt like we both took comfort in the tune.

I had just finished a long conversation with a Kenyon woman in the same waiting room. She had not left that hospital in 2 months and still, she was radiant. Her baby boy is on the other side of their long journey, so she had a certain lightness to her.

She wanted to know more about my sister and brother in law. She said her heart was burning for them, knowing how impossible it must be to survive these difficult times. She was impressed, though, at the strength of this couple. She knew they were different...deeply committed to each other and to their children.

"How will they make it? With their hearts torn into so many pieces?" she asked. "The burden of a newborn is great enough for a new mother; but this...this is too much for anyone."

"They will make it, no matter how many pieces;" was the only thing I could spit out; but I meant it. I didn't hope it, I knew it.

We smiled, looked at Ella, and didn't say anything else.