Some Things Are Meant To Be

Yesterday, I randomly texted my daughter and asked her if I could have a day with her.  Due to some things going on in my life, it was brought to my attention that I wasn’t the Mom I wanted to be to her – and so I set out to fix that.

I left my boys at home with instructions, and headed out to see her today.   It was a truly girlie day.   Hair, nails, shopping for a dress for the party I’m going to be at next weekend, and lunch.

It was awesome.  Chatter, and hanging out.   Lots of connection and an apology for the lack of involvement in her life to date combined with a promise of more.

At the end of the day, I needed to hit one more store in downtown Vancouver.  I realized, as I headed in along Kingsway towards Davie, that I would be passing by Vancouver General Hospital.

I had sent messages out to Robert and Patricia and Ellen and had tentative plans to try to see them on the angelversary.

Robert wasn’t working – he wasn’t even going to be near VGH.

Ellen was going to be out of town.

Patricia was working (how perfect was that? she was there the last day and to see her on the angelversary….)

So I made a call.   Robert was, indeed, working dayshift (it was 6.30 – he’d be there until 7.30).   He told me that Patricia was there too… it was perfect.   Two out of the 3 nurses I’d kept in contact with were there – they were the two I hadn’t been able to see in the past year.

I got there, was invited INTO ICU… sat with Robert at his patient’s side, and we caught up.    After a bit, we went down to Patricia’s bed.   And then Robert surprised me with “Hey Ellen’s here too!!”

I got to hug them all.   I got to talk to them.  I got to connect with them.  I love them, all three of them, for the amazing amount of compassion and love and caring they gave Mark and all of us during his stay there and right until the end.

Two of them weren’t supposed to be there, and it was a random happy accident that I decided to call and see if Robert was there.

It was meant to be that I’d get to see them.

I walked into the hospital, walked into the ICU, walked around ICU like I belonged there (it feels so incredibly familiar and comfortable there) and I walked out without ever being triggered or anxious or upset or sad.

It was the right time.  It was meant to be.

As I was walking out of the ICU, I saw two women in the hallway hugging, crying, comforting each other.   I wanted to hug them and tell them that no matter what, no matter the outcome… it would be ok in the end.

It's Going to be Ok Someday

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