Thursday, September 3, 2015
As I sat in the waiting room, I looked around at all the others....waiting, waiting to see their loved ones. I looked at their faces and wondered why they were there. I listened to their conversations, watched them wring their hands with anxious anticipation and waited. When we entered the common area, I watched as each person entered; and I tried to figure out their stories. Some were greeted with tears and hugs, some just with hugs, some with pats on the back; but they were all glad to be seen. I saw some cup the faces of their loved ones in their hands and look deeply in their eyes as they greeted them. I saw some hold their hands gently in theirs, and I wondered.... What is their story? How deep is the wound? Will it ever be healed for them? Will they find joy again? I wondered. Will she find joy again? I saw a glimmer in some of their eyes as they visited, and I saw hurt in their faces....all of them....every single one. I saw one who was still waiting for his loved one to appear, and his face was full of angst; then he stood and smiled when he saw him approach. I wondered. How many will return? How many will survive? How many will fight for their joy? Are they scared? I am.