Obviously, Stephen does not remember the day he was born, but over the years, his mother would share her special moments: Rushing to the hospital in the middle of the night. Three days of labor. Her parents patiently waiting down the hall in the waiting room. Her mother-in-law not so patiently waiting outside the room, “Why are the doctors waiting so long? They’re going to let that little baby die!” Then, at 3:16 a.m. on the morning of June 17, Stephen was born. His mother held him so gently on her chest. She held his tiny hand in hers as he drew his first breaths.
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A new life had entered the world.
In the years to come, this tiny baby boy grew into a man. For his mother, time passing all too fast. As the years raced by, she recalled those precious moments…moments where she could still feel him drawing his first breaths and the softness of his tiny hands.
To her little boy, time could not pass fast enough. Eventually though, he did grow into the man she hoped he would become. But then, time passed all too quickly for both of them. Suddenly, life had come full circle. This tiny baby boy was now a man in his 60’s. His mother, who was once young, strong, healthy, and full of boundless energy was now 87. Frail. With failing health. He found himself doing for her what she had done for him for so many years – caring for her every want and need.
As the weeks turned into months, her health continued to decline, and she became more and more dependent. As so often happens, a minor mishap turned into a journey from which she would never return.
For hours, he stood beside her bed in the emergency room and later in intensive care. Although her voice was silent, she would answer his questions with a slight nod, a tilt of her head, or a weak squeeze of his hand.
The doctors pulled him off to the side and said it was only a matter of hours, or possibly minutes. There was no way to tell. There was nothing else they could do.
Stephen held her hand as he talked about the past. Her responses became weaker. The nods were now gone, as was her occasional head tilt. Yet, he could still feel her weak squeeze of his hand, “Mom, it’s so warm outside. It’s almost 70 degrees. I love you mom.” Stephen then felt a slight squeeze.
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Seconds later, Stephen looked at her nurse. She just shook her head, “I’m so sorry. She’s gone now.”
At that very moment, he looked out the window into that blue November sky and thought, “How lucky they were. For she held his tiny hand as he drew his first breaths. And, years later, he was there to hold her tiny frail hand…as she drew her last few breaths. Two special moments between a mother and son.”
For Stephen and his mother, life had come full circle. “Hand in Hand.” It was a beautiful warm November day. It was November 11.
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