Blessings in Radiology’s Waiting Room
Friendly staff greeted us at the door and acknowledged us in the halls on our way to the 4th floor.
The halls always smell the same—of antiseptic, an antiseptic that couldn’t prevent what I was feeling that day.
The 4th floor found us in one waiting room and then quickly in another. The first one didn’t seem so bad … Maybe because I wasn’t there long enough to soak in my surroundings. The second waiting room, Radiology’s waiting room, exposed what I was really feeling: life is fragile.
November is a time of giving thanks and gathering with our loved ones to eat turkey. For the past two years, November has become a time when my Facebook News Feed fills up with daily posts of gratitude—daily posts that acknowledge life’s simple blessings.
Sitting in Radiology’s waiting room, the simple blessings in life are what caused me to fight back tears. Simple blessings are all those things we take for granted throughout the year: sunrises and sunsets, babbling creeks and roaring oceans, and—the most important blessings of all—the very lives we share all of our other blessings with.
My Dad is one of my most important blessings.
My heart quivered as I thought of him, and of a disease that I despise and don’t want in my family. A disease that has ripped through other families and taken away their important blessings while I helplessly watched.
I couldn’t bear the thought of losing my dad. He is a steady constant in my life that I expect to always be there, because he always has been.
My dad was the first man to embrace me and teach me the meaning embodied in the words I love you. He has shown me kindness and discipline, forgiveness and grace. He has stood beside me in compassionate devotion, just like he has stood beside my mom for the past 51 years.
So yes, my heart quivered as I thought of him and of the unknown.
My heart quivered because the clock that measures our time is invisible to the human eye.
And, my heart quivered because, instead of focusing on the blessings right in front of me, I was focusing on an uncontrollable possibility that frightened me—my dad could have cancer.
In Radiology’s waiting room, blessings still surrounded me: the loving eyes and gentle demeanor of a man waiting for his bald wife; the quick movement of a woman hindered by a cane as she rushed to assist the wheelchair-bound man with her into the bathroom; the countless texts and prayers as some of my dearest blessings sent support while I waited with my mom.
Life is fragile, and the invisible clock will count down. That is a fact that can and does create a feeling of vulnerability. But that is also a fact I can embrace in order to enjoy the fullness of life that exists around me.
A fullness that comes from seeing the brush strokes of rose at dawn or the sun’s golden glow at dusk. A fullness that I feel when I dip my feet in a cool, refreshing creek or the foam-filled waves of the ocean … and a fullness that comes when I experience these moments with my most important blessings beside me.
Simple blessings surround us in every moment and in every location.
We just have to stop and look.
This November, I challenge you to acknowledge the blessings that surround you in every moment … and to make sure you pay extra special attention to the ones you share those blessing with.
