Monday, June 1st was a day just like all the others except for one thing, a sense of sadness that seemed to fill my heart and mind. I had no idea why this feeling was capturing my attention. For a few days, I simply could not shake it. Later in the week, the explanation came. I learned that in those days, a close friend had been rushed to the hospital. It was not a total surprise as she had been in a four-year battle with cancer. I called but could not connect with her husband and was not sure what hospital she was in. So I offered my prayers and hoped for good news.
A couple of days passed with no news, so I decided “no news is good news.” I began my day with my usual two cups of coffee with the dread of rush hour traffic. Also, I knew I had many appointments and it was going to be a wild day. As I drove a few more miles, I thought of my friend “Ms. I” as we called her. I was thinking of how she would give anything for a day like mine. I felt ashamed for complaining to myself and began to realize what a treasure I was given to have a normal busy day.
Arriving at work, after checking my emails and making some calls I decided to try her phone and her husband’s cell again. I had left messages for several days with no return calls but I left them again. The next day with the same results, my heart began to race as I knew now something was very wrong. I looked up the closest hospital to her home and called and asked for her and to my dismay, I was given a room number. A few seconds later, a woman’s voice answered, but not Ms. I’s. “Hello, no I’m sorry she can’t talk.” Then she whispered “she no longer knows anyone.” Horrified, I managed a very faint response, “Is this it, is this the end?” With sincere heartbreaking pain, she replied, “Yes.”
I don’t know why it was so shocking; I knew for a long time that she was not going to win this one. She also knew what the outcome was going to be but she was a FIGHTER! Ms. I had already been tagged by her doctor as “Miracle Girl”. She even began to sign her emails simply “MG.” Now sadly, the miracle seemed to be fading with every breathe she struggled to take. Now knowing where she was, I rushed to the hospital to see her.
As I came into her room, I walked very quietly to go say goodbye but was greeted by a small voice that called my name. “Why are you here?” she asked. I simply responded because you are here. I stood by her bedside, took her hand and as I was about to speak, I heard a lullaby playing. As I looked over, her eyes never opened but a beautiful smile appeared on her face. Ms. I was peaceful when she whispered to me “A baby was just born” and she fell back asleep.
I came everyday for 10 days and I watched as she was lured away to a peaceful place with every lullaby. Perhaps the sweet music of the lullaby took her back to her childhood and made her feel safe and happy. Now the only words being said were mine as I recalled fun times we had together. But she was no longer responding.
The day was almost over and I would leave to wait for the call that would come. Suddenly, the lullaby began to play again. For the first time in several days, I heard her say one more time, “A baby was just born.” And with the biggest smile on her face, she slipped away to a faraway place. I like to believe that she still hears those lullabies. For me, she is always in my memory when I hear soft, sweet songs. Ms. I taught me to treasure ordinary days and that’s a gift she left behind. Miracle Girl is now healed and in a better place and perhaps she can be heard humming a lullaby.