Friday, October 30, 2009


I have tried my best to avoid our local hospital over the past year.

But I've been up there two or three times since Mom died; once for a workshop and once for blood work, anyway. Still I have managed to avoid the actual wards. Like the plague.

There is a coffee/snack kiosk in the lobby and surprisingly, the coffee is pretty good. Being a true coffee addict, I spent a lot of time there when Mom was in the hospital. One woman, in particular, who worked there (her name escapes me now -I have a good memory but it's a little on the short side) was particularly friendly. Sweet, actually. We chatted a lot and shared a lot of personal stuff.

I've seen her at the kiosk on a couple of occasions when I've been at the hospital since then. And I literally could not physically force myself to walk over there and say hello.

Just. Could. Not. Do. It.

It was too much. Just the thought of it hurt too bad.

I was up at the hospital this morning for blood work. And she was at the kiosk. I was surprised to find that not only could I go over, get a coffee and chat with her but I was compelled to. I really wanted and needed to say hello.

So I did. And shared with her that I hadn't been able to speak to her for the past 11 months. Not until now. She got it. She's still sweet. I wouldn't have expected any less.

I walked out the door with tears in my eyes. But I had to wonder ... perhaps, just perhaps, it was a small sign of healing?


Kris, in New England said...

Absolutely Michelle. Healing begins with small things that mean so much to you.

Good for you. It's an annoying saying but healing does take time.

doorkeeper said...

(((M))) Little steps--and you're right, when it's time, it'll happen, naturally. And so life goes on. Miss you! d