Friday, August 17, 2007

Dear God,

Sometimes unholy moments come when in fact I am trying to live in holy moments as a way of life.

My daughter had gone back into the hospital with labor contractions again, the eighth time in the last four weeks. She's had pre-term labor for two and a half months. Early in the afternoon the nurses talked with her about a C-section today. They began prepping her, monitoring her and the baby but they had to wait until she had not eaten or drunk anything for six hours. So at 8:00 p.m. we expected the blessed event to take place. But instead the doctor came in and did an evaluation, telling us the nurses had made a mistake. Rather than having a baby minutes later they were sending her home again.

That little news set forth a chain of events. Two excited granddaughters who thought they would be spending the night together were told that would not happen. The one would have to go to school after all rather than spend the day with her family celebrating her new baby brother. An explosion of tears occurred as I tried to explain to the girls. Needless to say, the pregnant mom and dad were not happy. No baby, no hospital stay, home again! My other daughter's husband was disappointed because his wife was with all of us at the hospital instead of with him on the planned anniversary night when I would take care of the children.

It was determined that I would take the baby's older sister home and stay the night, taking her to school the next morning. When I arrived at 9:15 p.m. the house was dark and locked. I spent some time trying to break in with a credit card so I could get my granddaughter to bed. No
luck. I even kicked the back door in frustration. Grief!

I tried to find my cell phone and realized I had left it at the hospital along with a sack containing my medicine. With minutes ticking away and a grandchild who needed to be sleeping to prepare for her first day of school, we got back in the car and drove around looking for a phone booth. I found one at a gas station that was closing. I put in 50 cents and just as I was connecting they wanted 15 more cents for three minutes. When I told them the name of the hospital, they gave me the number of a mortgage company. Really stressed, I put in 50 more cents and of course, they wanted 15 more cents. The call did not go through and the phone ate my second 65 cents. I was shouting at the phone to give me the number of the hospital. Of course, I was not talking to a human but rather a robot who is designed not to listen to a caller. I hung up the phone, well really, I jammed it into the cradle, jumped in the car, really not happy. Then I started driving again to find a place where I could phone the hospital.

Finally I found a Subway. I cried out, "Does anyone know where there is a phone I can use?" They told me I couldn't use theirs and they were sorry. But a young worker offered me her cell phone. Twice the number did not go through. I was about on my last cord when the third time was a charm. I spoke with my son in law and they had found the phone and medicine and would be bringing it home soon. But no one had a key. They had given it to the grandmother who had left it inside and had obviously locked the door when she left. I thanked the staff who had helped me at Subway, then I left.

Upon arriving at my granddaughter's home, we made a little bed for her in a sleeping bag I had brought with me. The car was hot so I turned on the air conditioning. I tried resting in the cramped front seat. She flipped and flopped in the back seat, but couldn't sleep. Finally my daughter arrived home. And there she was...very pregnant, angry and disappointed, still contracting, but not as bad...trying to break in to her own home. Her husband was at the back door trying the same thing even though it was pitch black outside, no lights.

A few minutes later my son in law discovered a partially opened window so he put his daughter through it and she unlocked the doors. By now it was past 10:00 p.m., two hours after she was to be in bed. I called my husband and friend to give them the latest news...no, there is no baby yet. But while I was talking, my seven-year-old granddaughter came in and stood at the end of the hall. "Grandma, I can't sleep until you're beside me!" I hung up the phone while she crawled into bed and I climbed into my sleeping bag on the floor. What a night!

Obviously, the evening was filled with annoying frustrations. And rightfully so. However, my battle with the phone at the gas station was no holy moment. Neither was my behavior at the dark, locked house. I really lost it. And my granddaughter had watched me. And of course, I slammed the car door when I got back in the car. I had disappointed you and myself and provided a pathetic model on how to handle life's little frustrations. I went to bed disgusted at myself while listening to some kind of crazy music that my granddaughter listens to as she falls asleep.

Forgive me,
Lord,
for failing
to model
patience.
Such moments
are perfect times
to provide
a good example
of how
to handle things
when life
takes little unexpected turns.
I failed.
It's just that simple.
I failed.
I am sorry.
Help me recoup
my dignity.
My apology
to my granddaughter
was the beginning.
But also help me
to take all things
in stride
so I can model
a life based
on trust in you,
for everything
in life.
Please take
my unholy moment
and transform it
into holiness,
a witness
for you.

Love, Andrea