elder care,  Musings


I sit here and wait. With Grandma. With Mom and Dad. Waiting for word of Grandpa in recovery.

Complete shoulder replacement, on his left side. The pacemaker side. They turned the pacemaker off this morning, for the first time in 2 1/2 years. And his heart took over, like the Lord has created it too, pumping, circulating blood, keeping his body alive. The doctor said he did well, and we are waiting to see him. Waiting for news from the anesthesiologist of how his heart and lungs did.

The waiting room is full of people, waiting just like us. Waiting for news, for results, dreading the what-if’s. Full of worried people, dreading yet longing for news.

This morning when we got here there was an older woman in a wheelchair, waiting. She greeted us with a chipper “Good morning!” and introduced her daughters to is. It was early, yet she was happy. Smiling, greeting people, all dolled up and ready. She was born in 1936, and made my tired, half-awake self feel a bit more happy.

Across the seats from us this morning was an older couple. The wife was shivering under a blanket, dozing on and off, with a hospital bracelet on her wrist, waiting her turn.

Behind us there was a guy who showed up at about 9:30, and he was still talking a mile a minute three hours later. I don’t think his mouth knew how to stay still :D

On the other side of the room there’s a family surrounded by their church friends, teary-eyed and waiting. I overheard the mother say that it was a car accident on a major interstate. A police officer who responded to the scene was a friend of the family and notified everyone. The church members were here long before the mother and brother walked in, wiping tears. They’ve been here a couple hours now.

A while ago there were two little twin boys, sitting with their Momma. They were so cute, sitting there so patiently and quietly.

As I observe these people, I realize that everyone has a story. There are unknowns to every person, and we only see what they want us to. We see the snippy attitude, hear the grumpiness, and we jump to conclusions. Only the Lord knows their hearts, what they have been through, who has been waiting all day in a surgical waiting room for news of a loved one.

As you go about your day, think of this. Smile at the grumpy cashier, give the frumped  up door greeter a cheery greeting. You never know when you will lift their spirits and share the fragrance of  Christ with them.

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I am a 23 year old young lady who is redeemed and saved from my sin only by the grace of God. A bibliophile at heart with a love of history who desires to see the Word of God practically applied to all aspects of our daily lives -- in our homes, in the grocery store, in the political realm. I strive to put my jumbled, chaotic thoughts down onto paper -- reducing them into black and white rows, letters, sentences. Into some semblance of sanity. And I share them here with all of you, where I can challenge you, make you think, and cause you to ask questions. I am the oldest of eleven children living the country life in the deep south.


    • Kaitlyn S.

      I was thinking and crying in the waiting room Monday. I have never seen such raw heartache and sorrow as I did at that time, and it was mixed with such hope in Christ — I knew from the way they reacted that they were devastated by something, but they firmly believed their God was good, all the time, in pain and sorrow, as well as the happy and joyful!

What are your thoughts?

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