Tuesday, July 8, 2014

trauma

It was 3:30 on a Saturday morning when my alarm rang to alert me that it was time to feed my two little ones again. As I reached into the crib and gently lifted little honey out I also picked up my Ipad that was softly playing hymns for my baby. I figured since I was so exhausted I could check my facebook page to stay awake while baby nursed her bottle. I opened it and immediately wondered why I had 3 or 4 messages from my sister Rachel. The first one sent a sting of alarm through my heart. It read in part, “ David is having health problems. It doesn’t look good…” The next one was something that no one wants to ever see in their news feed, “ David has died. Please come home.” Shock and disbelief coursed through my heart as I perched on the edge of my bed in my small, dimly lit bedroom, trying to keep the bottle in the baby’s mouth while frantically messaging Rachel. Back and forth the messages flew as we discussed what had happened and how we should proceed… All I could think was, I need to go home right now! There is nothing that makes one feel disconnected and alone at a time like that than to know there is an ocean lying between me and my family!

As the minutes crept by I tried to relax a bit but to no avail. My mind was spinning with so many memories and questions. Finally I just got up and started getting things gathered up to pack. As morning dawned I went through all the motions of doing my hair and getting dressed but it felt like I was moving through a hazy fog, my thoughts all running about in no particular order except for one – I must go home, I must go home… I was so incredibly thankful for the way everyone stepped in to help with the babies and to Carlos for spending a couple hours on the phone arranging a flight for me to fly out that evening. By midmorning everything was arranged and by noon I was sitting in the Port au Prince airport.

I was thankful to get there hours before my boarding time. I just sat still in the midst of people milling around me. I sat in a bubble of silence watching as if in a dream, the world happening around me. My flight got delayed and I knew aside from a miracle from God I would never make my connecting flight from Miami to Philadelphia. I just closed my weary eyes and didn’t even care. Whatever was going to happen was going to happen and there was not one thing I could do about it.

As the sun sank low in the west we finally boarded and took off. The colors above the clouds where unbelievably magnificent. I stared in wonder and thought about David and tried to imagine the glories that he was experiencing.

In Miami I tried to hurry as much as possible to get through immigrations, customs, baggage claim, and security but really it was  no point because you can do nothing to hurry tons of people in line in front of you. I stood alone and just prayed for God to delay my outgoing flight. When I walked up to the place to recheck my bag a man in uniform glanced at me and said, “ Go outside, you’ll have to wait till tomorrow morning to get another flight.” I turned away numbly only to hear him calling me back to inform me my flight had been delayed and I could still make it if I hurry!!!! Thank you, Jesus!!!

I wearily climbed aboard my last flight, leaned my head back and immediately dropped into a deep, exhausted slumber. Several times through the three hour flight I was dimly aware that I might be leaning over heavily onto the person beside me but I was too tired to care and I think he was sound asleep too.

And then it was landing time and it was 2:30 am almost 24 hours since I had received the news about David. I actually thought I did not have the strength to walk off my plane, my eyes crossed with sleep and my head pounded with a lack of food headache. I prayed and Jesus gave me what I needed for that moment.

Amy and Sulley were waiting with a quart of cold milk ready for me to drink on the way home! I drank and felt my headache slip away as we glided smoothly through the dark empty city streets, arriving at Rachel’s house in record time. It was so good to be together but no time for lengthy salutations now. Everyone had to be roused out of bed and a ton of suitcases, pillows, blankets, wheelchair, and activity bags loaded into Rachel’s van. The two tots were carried out in their sleepy stupor, gazing shyly at Aunt Mary from Haiti, and buckled into their seats. Soon all was in order and we headed out the driveway at 5:00 am on Sunday morning with more than a 1,000 miles before us!

To be continued…

1 comment:

Unknown said...

I sort of feel the numbing pain. A year ago we buried our sister-in-law.