She sat in the corner...
Illustration
She sat in the corner of the room, watching the others in the Intensive Care Family Area. She did not cry, she did not pace, she did not drink cup after cup of coffee as so many others did. No one spoke to her, and she spoke to no one. No magazine could distract her; no picture puzzle on the card table attracted her. No one but the chaplain would have noticed her, because this room was filled with people waiting for the few minutes each hour they are allowed to visit their loved ones.
In fact, even the chaplain had missed talking with her until a week had passed, she had been so quiet. But one day, he walked into the room and almost no one was there. And so he noticed her, walked over and introduced himself. She just looked at him.
The chaplain sat down, still looking into her eyes, and waited. She let her eyes drift to the windows. At last she said, "I've been waiting for days. He doesn't know I'm here; he doesn't even wake up when the doctors examine him." Another long silence. "What am I going to do if he doesn't ever wake up?" A single tear ran down her cheek, and she licked its salty trail near her mouth.
The chaplain said nothing, but when he held out his hands, she slipped her head to his shoulder and sobbed. For all the long time she held on, the chaplain stroked her hair, never saying a word until she was cried out. At last, the words came: "God is so sorry this is happening. You are not alone. I will wait with you until you tell me to go."
-- Herrmann
In fact, even the chaplain had missed talking with her until a week had passed, she had been so quiet. But one day, he walked into the room and almost no one was there. And so he noticed her, walked over and introduced himself. She just looked at him.
The chaplain sat down, still looking into her eyes, and waited. She let her eyes drift to the windows. At last she said, "I've been waiting for days. He doesn't know I'm here; he doesn't even wake up when the doctors examine him." Another long silence. "What am I going to do if he doesn't ever wake up?" A single tear ran down her cheek, and she licked its salty trail near her mouth.
The chaplain said nothing, but when he held out his hands, she slipped her head to his shoulder and sobbed. For all the long time she held on, the chaplain stroked her hair, never saying a word until she was cried out. At last, the words came: "God is so sorry this is happening. You are not alone. I will wait with you until you tell me to go."
-- Herrmann
