Friday.
Just like the Friday we found out about the complications with my preganancy and about how quickly our life would change.
There we were back in that same hospital.
UCSF.
A world within a world. Doctors, Surgeons, the elderly, the young, the unborn.
Lives. So many lives.
The smell. The walls that saw me cry. The elevator that brought me ‘down’ whenever I’d ascend the floors.
The hustle and bustle that brought me back into the part of my mind that I don’t visit often.
It was a mere appointment, nothing urgent or life threatening yet my heartbeat was in sync with my emotions.
An Opthomology appointment for Chaim Boruch.
But for me it was more than that. It was going back ino a nightmare that I actually survived.
I held my breath…or did I have a breath to hold?
My mind was racing with memories.
And yet as my eyes met so many sad scenes, I was humbled by my miracle sitting in his wheelchair.
He was all smiles, oblivious to the flutters in my heart.
Just keep smiling my dear son and may you never hear the flutters in my heart.
May you never recall my memories.
May you spread your smile to every corner of this earth with such love and warmth.
That evening as I lit the Shabbos candles, my hands covered my eyes, my lips whispered deep thanks for my blessings in my life.
Dear G-d,
Thank you for letting me come home with my child by my side.
Thank you for opening my eyes to new appreciation, new gratitude and a new day.
Thank you.
I opened my eyes.