Monday I was driving around doing errands when a friend called and her voice made it clear I better pull over and brace myself. I was pretty sure I knew why she was calling and I started thinking really hard at myself to accept the news and not fall apart because I had kids to pick up and chores to do and there would be time later. I was wrong. She wasn't calling for the reasons I thought, she was calling to tell me that one of our dear friends was seriously ill. I was stunned. I don't know why this kind of news still stuns me but I think a part of me still sees all of us as young adults and not the 50+ year olds we really are. She and I spoke a bit, she asked me to call some people, I offered to come sit with his wife at the hospital later that night and then I moved through the rest of my day in a kind of haze.
My main concern was simply for my friend-for the doctors working on him to be successful, for him to be able to have a full healing, what in my faith we call refuah shlema. My second and almost equally great concern was that his wife, his family, have my full support and not have to worry about anything while facing this crisis. Of course, it doesn't hurt that he has some of the best friends on the planet and they had already kicked into high gear and in a very seamless way were handling all the ephemera as well as being there for emotional support. I was and am moved by how amazing they all are.
All this though isn't so much to tell their story or my ill friend's story because the details aren't mine to share. What it does have me thinking about is grace and healing and community. Sitting the past two nights in an ICU waiting area I wasn't just moved by our group, but all the groups and solitary people-keeping vigil, holding each other, telling stories, crying or laughing. I saw huge family groups and solitary individuals wrapped in blankets and clutching a cup of coffee. Hushed conversations, loud conversations but everyone in the strange space-time continuum rift that is a hospital waiting room, everyone focused on each other and on the loved one on the other side of the doors. Time kind of stops. It's truly a between time place. For almost everyone in that ICU, their well-being doesn't depend on who is in that waiting room and yet whether you believe in grace or God or simply good will-the strength and love and the so palatable you can taste it strong wishes of all these folks are a true presence and I believe truly helps.
As I get older I seem to spending more and more time in these in-between places but they never get less meaningful, less sacred or less important. The words from the refuah shlema prayer that run through my head, are not so much directed at God but more just an expression of fervent hope , could be translated: May those in whose care they are entrusted, be gifted with wisdom and skill, and those who surround them, be gifted with love and trust, openness and support in their care. And may they be healed along with all those who are in need.
Sadly, there are others I hold in my heart these days when I think of healing and grace and strength but I also feel joy at the community surrounding each of them and the love and support they and their loved ones are being given.
Love really is all we need.
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